


Hostage

by thatotherperv



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Abduction, Adults Seducing Minors, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon, Blasphemy, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Kink, Demons Are Assholes, Dom/sub Undertones, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Dubious Consent, F/M, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Menstruation Kink, Minor Character Death, Multi, Seduction, Sexual Roleplay, Spanking, Stockholm Syndrome, Underage Sex, Vampires are not Fluffy, douchebaggery is a valid kink, this is romantic if you're as twisted as me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-17
Updated: 2007-10-31
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 39,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatotherperv/pseuds/thatotherperv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Angelus and Spike come to Sunnydale to kill the slayer, they find more interesting prey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: um, lots. not all of which I'm willing to specify. for starters, these guys are evil and soulless, and will behave as such the whole way through. elements of non-con. and Dawn is 17, so where I live that's legal but *shrugs*
> 
> Notes: when I was a baby lurker, there was a common scenario that really used to ring my bell. usually it was played out with Willow, but sometimes Xander or someone else. in an AU Buffyverse, Angelus and Spike somehow are evilly teamed up and kidnap one of the Scoobies, for fun and profit. lot of Stockholm syndrome, lots on non-conniness, lots of bloodplay and terror *drifts happily* but in the end, a love story. just, you know...a demony one.
> 
> I miss those fics. I was having a fit of nostalgia for my oldest kinks in the fandom. this fic...contains all of them. do you trust me to not warn you about them? I think it's better to be surprised sometimes. 
> 
> The boys are evil the whole way through. even when they love her, they still do some unconscionable things to her. go with it. they're demons. I'm unapologetically catering to my own long-dormant old-school kinks here, including the Spangel characterization. *cough* *shifty eyes* I justify it by their backstory in this 'verse. hush.
> 
> how is this fic AU? Angelus never got a soul, so the boys were never separated. Darla and Dru wandered off at some point, possibly in 1894 when the Immortal was such a hot stud ;) Dawn is only 3 years younger than Buffy, so she's 17 in this fic.
> 
> originally posted [here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=thatotherperv&keyword=Hostage%20Angelus%2FDawn%2FSpike&filter=all).

They’d come for the slayer, but the moment Spike saw her, he knew.

There was more interesting prey in Sunnydale than Buffy Summers.

She was bloody gorgeous. Long-limbed and willowy. Reminded him so much of his Dru, she did. Same coloring, same build. Reckoned she was a sight saner than his princess. And this one, once he’d reeled her in…this one would never leave him. She smelled like softness and sweetness and young flesh, beggin’ to be loosed from human morals.

Now the only thing to do was convince Angelus that it had been his idea all along.

~*~*~*~

“Who’s the girl?”

The lilt in Angelus’ voice said: why aren’t you stalking the slayer? Why aren’t you doing as your told? Naughty boys get punished. And….who _is_ that hot piece of ass?

It was the perfect cocktail to get Spike what he wanted.

Spike didn’t look away from where the slayer’s sister walked blithely down a dark road at midnight, as if she didn’t know the risk she was taking. He’d already killed three fledges that fancied her to be a tasty snack and didn’t realize she was destined for greater things.

“Slayer’s sister,” he answered, as if it were information of passing interest.

The big body looming over his shoulder stilled, like a feral dog on the verge of lunging for an exposed throat. “Really.”

Spike shifted to make sure his smile was concealed. “Yeah. This one has a sister. Has a whole bloody supporting cast, actually. A mum, a sister, a couple of mates that are tasty little morsels waiting to be plucked. Babies her sis. And her sis resents it like all hell. Bit of a rebel in this one.”

Angelus hummed, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. Thinking. “She’s a weakness.”

“Don’t need a weakness to take down this one, Angelus. Old pros like us. Could take this chit blindfolded and tied. Don’t need the distraction of a little sister to do our dirty work for us. It’s like cheating.” He gave the last a bit of a whine.

A big hand clamped onto the base of his skull in a light threat. Angelus leaned in to murmur against his ear. “Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

He released Spike and began to back away, melting into the shadows like the melodramatic poof that he was.

“Make it happen, Spike.”

Easy as pie.


	2. Prologue

God, her sister was such a bitch. Just because she was three years older, and a superhero and stuff, she thought that she was so much smarter. 

Dawn could go out at night if she wanted. Was she supposed to give up her social life just because they lived on the hellmouth? Demons could go take a flying leap, she wasn’t about to be a social pariah like Buffy.

Sneaking out the window was a little hard in this skirt, and Dawn was glad her room faced the back of the house so that when she shimmied down the trellis from the flat part of the roof, she wasn’t flashing anybody.

Dawn might tease all the boys on the dance floor, but she didn’t show off her goodies.

Still, just because she was Bronzing it didn’t mean she was a complete idiot…she had a small stake all tucked away in her purse.

An hour later and Janice was babbling about some boy or another over the music blaring inside the Bronze, but Dawn wasn’t paying attention at all. Janice didn’t notice—as long as she could listen to herself talk, she was happy. 

No, Dawn’s attention was on the hot guy that was checking her out from across the room. 

She wasn’t staring right back, of course. She knew not to do that. But she was totally aware of the way that his eyes remained trained on her as she pretended to scan the room. 

She sent him another flirty little glance. Direct, but brief. His eyes held hers for one long moment that made it hard to breath—then he winked and turned away.

Dawn wrestled with what to do, antsy now that his attention was no longer on her. He was way hotter than any of the boys at school…older too, though she didn’t think by much. He didn’t seem old and skeezy—just really cool. He had that bad boy look, with the leather and the bleached hair. 

She’d bet anything he drove a motorcycle.

When he started chatting up some skanky sorority girl, Dawn’s decision was made. She made an excuse to Janice, and slipped through the crowd across the room.

~*~*~*~

Spike concealed a smile when a slender female body bumped into his, as though muscling in toward the bar. He excused himself from his conversation with the bait (and potential dinner), and turned casually. Acted surprised to see Dawn standing next to him.

He let his eyes flicker down to her breasts. Just a fleeting look. Dawn blushed but flipped her hair as if this were old hat.

The girl had stones.

“So are you gonna buy me a drink already, or were you just planning on staring at me all night.”

Spike barked a laugh, genuinely surprised, and the girl beamed. 

“So. The lady wants a drink. What will it be then, a soda pop?” He gave her an exaggerated once-over that made plain his awareness of her tender age.

Her chin lifted. He could see her searching her memory for every episode of Sex and the City she’d ever snuck in after her mum was asleep. “I’ll have a cosmopolitan.”

Spike’s mouth quirked up, and her eyes dropped down to his lips. She licked her own. “A cosmo,” he repeated, tone disbelieving. “That’s a grownup drink.”

Her gaze was steady on his. “I’m a grownup girl.”

Spike let his eyes wander her body, slower this time. He could smell arousal blooming hot under his attention. He itched to sink his teeth into her. Literally.

She was a delicious little piece.

“Right you are.”

~*~*~*~*~

“And she is sooo bossy. Thinks she knows everything. But she doesn’t!”

“You seem like a right smart girl yourself.”

Spike breathed in the scent of Dawn, supporting her weight as she weaved and leaned against him. Not totally blotto, but warm and loose-boned like a girl on her first liquor buzz. 

Might have been, actually. 

He groped her pert ass, enjoying the way she stumbled just a bit, heartbeat knocking. She was a little breathless when she picked up the thread of their conversation.

“I am! But she doesn’t see that!” 

His caress was casual along the hem of her skirt, so short that his fingers were one slip from paradise. Christ, she smelled wanting. “Deaf, dumb and blind, not to see a lovely thing like you for what you are.”

They came to a halt in Dawn’s backyard. She was too buzzed on liquor and lust to wonder how he knew where to go. 

“What am I?” she asked, pale eyes dilated. They were riveted on his face. She swayed forward into him.

“Breathtaking,” he said, and she ate the cheesy line up. He let her sway into his mouth, breath sugary against his face, lips fluttering in for a landing. 

He could smell her nerves. Her apprehension. Her lust. 

Spike wanted to drive into her slender body right there. Bend her over against the side of her mum’s house and make her scream loud enough to wake big sis. Fuck her unconscious and glut on her blood and snap the slayer’s neck in the afterglow.

Angelus would have his head for a stunt like that.

When he shoved Dawn up against the siding, she made a kittenish gasp and Spike pushed in close, hemming her in against the building. He took her small face in his hands and thrust his tongue into the soft lining of her mouth, pressing his erection into her belly. The rush of her heart quickened, but his girl didn’t stiffen in fear, oh no. She sagged into him and moaned, and he could smell her wetness. Her breast was plump and ripe against his palm.

She panted when he let her go, pink stains on her cheeks. Moaning, he leaned back in to nip at her ear again. Laved at it, and she trembled against him. Spike let his attention be diverted to the pulse in her velvet throat for a moment before he returned to her ear.

“Little girls should be tucked in their beds at this hour. You want to be tucked into mine, though, don’t you luv?”

The hitch in her breath was his answer. Soon enough.

“Up you get.” 

Before she was cognizant of his intention, he’d boosted her onto the roof, and he watched her crawl through her window, mindful that she not tumble and break her pretty little neck.

He and Angelus would be the ones to break this girl.

And if he got an eyeful of gauzy pink panties as she crawled away from him, that was no hardship at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Angelus was lying in wait in the parlor when Spike slipped into the mansion. Sitting by the fire warming his belly with whiskey.

Spike found him a moment after the front door closed with a soft click. Angelus didn’t abide slamming doors in his household, and Spike had learned that lesson…after a time. The blond swaggered into the room, obviously pleased with himself, and Angelus hid a smile. That pretty mouth was quirked up in an insolent smirk. “’M a big boy now, Da, no need to lose sleep when I’m out past curfew.”

Angelus didn’t take the bait. “The girl?”

Spike sprawled into the other wingback chair, slumping down, legs sprawled. Displaying himself like the vain creature that he was. “Wants me.”

Angelus’ eyes slid down to the residual boner that Spike was stroking idly in his jeans. His boy was gifted with the ladies. And the lads. Anyone he set his sights on, really.

After all, he’d learned from the best.

“Of course she does.”

“Tell me how you want it, and it’s done,” Spike purred.

“I want Dawn in a week and a half.” Angelus studied Spike over the rim of his glass as he took a long sip. “And I want you on your knees right now.”

Just that easily, Spike was sliding to the floor and crawling close, a hundred years of fighting and fucking making him easy for his sire…when it suited him. It usually did. Elbows sprawled over Angelus’ thighs as he looked up through his lashes, teasing. “Yes, da.”

Spike chortled around Angelus’ cock when Angelus shut him up the old fashioned way. He reveled in the vibration as he rammed his head against the back of Spike’s throat in censure. Spike just eye-fucked him and winked.

Brat.

Spike thought he was clever, that he’d pulled one over on his old man, but Angelus saw through him. He wanted the girl, he’d have the girl. He wanted to pretend he was the big bad, his own vamp, that was fine too.

To an extent.

They both knew who he belonged to. And they both knew that Spike liked it that way.

~*~*~*~

Spike knew before he even looked at the display on his mobile that Dawn had found the note he’d slipped into her purse the night they ‘met.’

“Hello, luv.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Hi. Spike? It’s Dawn, from….”

“I remember, pet. Couldn’t possibly forget you.”

“Oh.” She was flustered. He smiled into the receiver. “I just wanted to thank you. For the other night.”

“Which part of the other night?” he teased. “The drink? The lift home? ….The kiss, perhaps?”

Spike could practically hear her blush through the line. “For being a gentleman and helping me home. I didn’t mean to get quite so….”

Spike directed a low, dirty chuckle into the phone. “A gentleman,” he repeated, voice teasing out the word. “Is that what I was?”

Long, flustered pause.

“So um. Can we…. I was wondering….”

“Can you get away tonight, luv? I have to see you. Taste that sweet mouth.”

~*~*~*~

It was kind of cliché, but Dawn preferred to think of it as a classic. Slipping out in the middle of the night to neck with her cool older boyfriend.

She’d never call him that to his face, not till he said it first, but that’s how she thought of him. They talked on the phone all the time. She’d seen him every night for the last six days, because he said he couldn’t sleep without seeing her pretty face.

It made Dawn all melty inside.

There was something about Spike. He was polite and flirtatious and he was only ever rough with her in a way that brought on the _good_ ache, but…sometimes the way he looked at her. Sometimes he looked at her like….

Well. He seemed just a little dangerous, was all. Dawn figured that was _supposed_ to make her hot, at 17. Girls liked the bad boys, right?

And if push came to shove, Dawn wasn’t the kind to be pushed over. She’d learned her self-defense moves from the _slayer_ , and she could hold her own against a guy, no matter how toned his arms were.

She could afford to be a little reckless.

~*~*~*~

“Ohhh….”

“Feels good, pet?” Spike smiled up at her like he knew exactly how good it was, tongue flicking out again to curl around her sensitive nipple. Dawn nodded and her breath shuddered out as he began to suckle again. She couldn’t keep her hips still where they were trapped beneath his navel.

They were sprawled out on the bench seat of his old car. She thought he drove a bike, but it turned out he owned a car too. A big solid curvy one with no seatbelts and no gearbox between them. They started driving out of town nights, instead of going to the local hangouts. He said he wanted to spend some time getting to know her, away from the crowds.

They always started out upright….

Dawn felt sinful, bare above the waist, legs sprawled open to accommodate Spike’s body on the narrow bench. Spike’s hand was rubbing a little pattern on her inner thigh, and every time his hand dipped up under her skirt, her body shuddered with want. But she didn’t know if she should….

When his finger traced lightly over panties, Dawn felt an edge of protest, but intrigue won out. He wasn’t hurting her. Wasn’t even touching her, not really. And it felt so good….

His lips came back to hers, hard and hungry, and she forgot about her apprehension. He’d lost his shirt at some point, and his skin felt smooth and cool against her breasts. She ached from having so much skin pressed against her, and from the gentle pressure he was rubbing between her legs.

Dawn’s panties were pushed aside, and suddenly his fingers were right _there_ , touching her bare skin, and Spike was kissing her harder. He groaned and buried his face in her neck, licking along the vein in her throat. Spike had a thing for necks.

He was murmuring hot things against her pulse as his fingers spread her slick skin. Dawn was breathing hard with adrenaline and desire, and all at once, it was all a little too much.

“Spike. I don’t think we should—ah!”

His fingers began to swirl rapidly around her clit, and Dawn’s body danced as though she were on puppet strings. They shifted back to penetrate her, and the stretch of it ached, but his thumb on her clit sweetened the pain. Dawn clutched at his shoulders, fingernails digging in to steady herself.

“What was that, pet?” His voice was smug and crisp in her ear. Dawn shook her head, and Spike laughed. Sexy.

Dawn was lost. That night, she let him touch all of her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exciting chapter, I think. I'd like to thank girlpire for chatting with me about Angelus' behavior in the early part of this fic that led me to basically write this part over...it's far better for it.

Spike took Dawn to the movies the night their courting was to end. The desert out of town was too far for Angelus to walk to meet them, and they didn’t want to risk leaving a vehicle somewhere and looking suspicious, not if they meant to stay in town and take the slayer by surprise.

Spike had other motives as well. Would be a long time before he could take this tasty bit out in public, if ever again.

She picked some yawn-worthy romantic dribble that Spike wasn’t the least bit interested in, but it wasn’t as if he planned on watching. Rucked her skirt up in the back row and dove in, muffling her protests and pleasure with his hand.

Only thing more delicious than her quim was her mortification at being eaten out in public. Dating and necking was fun. He was almost sorry it was to end.

Almost. But not entirely. There would be benefits to her kidnapping.

Angelus was waiting for them at the car, smoke spiraling up from the cigarette he was using to bide his time. The DeSoto was parked _behind_ the theater, in the alley, ostensibly to keep anyone from dinging his baby—really, for privacy in case Dawn kicked up a fuss. Spike could have just brought her home and been done with it, but Angelus did like his drama.

Dawn slowed warily as they approached the car, spooked at the sight of a strange man waiting for them in the alley. She, of all people, knew the dangers inherent in living in Sunnydale. She hung back behind her boyfriend, whom she trusted.

Possibly not for much longer.

When they got close enough for Angelus to catch a whiff of them, he grinned and flicked the cigarette away from the car, pushing himself off the hood to stand. He murmured low enough for Spike to hear. “You always did have to have a snack during the film, William. Remember Paris?”

Spike smirked. How the bloody hell was he supposed to forget a bloodbath like that?

Spike used to get right bored, before the talkies.

Dawn was trying to hang back and slow their pace, but he held fast to her hand. Kept them moving forward. “…Spike. Do you know this guy?”

He smiled at her, and she relaxed a bit. “Sure do, pet. Old friend o’ mine. Need a lift, mate?”

Angelus scratched at the back of his head and tried to look sheepish. “Yeah. Car broke down again. Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt your date….”

Dawn perked up hospitably. “No! It’s no problem. That sucks about your car. We don’t mind at all, right Spike?”

What a generous girl. Her fingers were tangled loosely in his again, back in her comfort zone. No big bads lurking around corners. Safe and sound with her man.

“Not in the least. Dawn, this here’s Angelus. Fancies himself to be my best mate.”

Angelus took Dawn’s hand. “Spike, I thought you were just bragging about how pretty she is. You should have said she was a knockout.”

Layin’ it on a little thick, wasn’t he? Spike made a face at him, but Dawn was blushing prettily at the compliments. Ponce had taught him all he knew about charming the knickers off women, after all.

“Now that we’re all acquainted…get in the car, Angelus, and hands off my girl.”

As Dawn slid into the car through the driver’s seat, Angelus gave him a long, hard look over the roof of the car. Stared coldly until Spike acquiesced, looking away.

He got the message. This was Angelus’ game now. Mind his place.

~*~*~*~

“So how do you guys know each other?”

Dawn had been a chatterbox ever since they got in the car, eager to make nice with her dreamboat’s best friend. Angelus stretched his arm across the back of the seat, his hand brushing Dawn’s hair. She shifted away politely.

“We were sorta dating the same girl, right Spike? We’ve always had the same taste in women.” He held Dawn’s eyes and smiled, and she caught the veiled implication—as he’d meant her to. Blushed and looked away.

Spike glared at him before his eyes slid back to the road. Dru was still a sore point, though fuck knew she should be a distant memory, by now. “Yeah, I thought he was a real wanker, back then.”

Angelus stared at the stubborn side of Spike’s head. “Yeah, well, you were no prize yourself. Dawn, you wouldn’t believe it, but Spike here has always wanted to be a—”

“Drummer. In a band. But I’m tone-deaf, very sad.” Spike shot him another look, and Angelus grinned, smug at the fact that he always won this game. Dawn was visibly confused at the byplay.

“Anyway, the girl moved on, and the rest is history.”

They bantered a bit more before falling into silence. Dawn was yawning sleepily, gazing with unfocused eyes out the passenger window. She leaned back against Angelus’ arm, head heavy.

Angelus might have missed the way that Dawn stiffened imperceptibly, had he not been tipped off by the sudden acceleration of her heart. He turned to find the source of her fear, and his eyes locked with hers in the sideview mirror. At least, they would have, if Angelus had a reflection. He pretended not to notice her panic, or the way her eyes slid to Spike’s rearview, which revealed no driver.

Wedged between them as she was, Angelus didn’t expect the ease with which she propelled herself into the back seat. He made a grab for her, but she squirmed right through his fingers, losing a shoe in the process, and threw herself out of the car, tucking and rolling before he could blink.

Spike’s “What the bloody hell—” was drowned out completely by Angelus’ roar to stop the car. As soon as it slowed, he was out and running after her. This girl was _up and running_. She should have broken her pretty neck, at that speed.

Still, she was human—slow, and weak. He was on her before she could even hear his footsteps over her own panting breath, plucking her off her feet and squeezing down on her ribs so she ‘oofed.’ She tried to head-butt him, jerking her skull back in the direction of his nose.

“Dawnie, Dawnie, Dawnie…where do you think you’re goin’? And here I thought we were getting along so well.”

She kicked outwards, struggling, but he already had his hand clamped over her nose and mouth. For a moment, her survival instinct blinded her, panicking and struggling with increasing intensity, unable to breathe. When he scraped blunt teeth along the curve of her neck, unable to resist the slender length of it, she screamed into his hand and struggled harder.

But gradually her struggles weakened until she slumped, unconscious, and Angelus removed his hand. Hefted her into his arms and started back towards the car. When he slid in through the passenger side, Spike looked shaken.

“What the _bloody fuck_ was that?”

“She saw the mirrors.”

“Bugger.” Spike huffed out a breath and stole a glance at the banged-up girl in Angelus’ arms. “We were going 50, at least.” He started the car, lighting a cigarette and exhaling slowly, thoughtfully. “Never knew a slayer with a sis before. Reckon she got the slayer healing?”

“Maybe. Normal human would have cracked their skull open like a melon. Guess we’ll find out.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dawn awoke feeling cotton-mouthed and groggy. Her head hurt. Her _everything_ hurt. She was disoriented. She’d had a date with Spike last night and…shouldn’t she be at school?

She bolted upright in a king-sized bed that was most definitely not hers. The room was dark and large. Not hers. God—they’d kidnapped her. Spike…was a vampire. How had she missed that? Stupid, stupid, stupid. He looked like some reject from the 80s, she totally should have known. A really _hot_ reject, but not somebody that had updated his look anytime in the last decade, for sure. He didn’t just have bad circulation in his hands—he had _no_ circulation in his hands.

He liked throats. God Dawn, wake up and clear the hormones out of your ears.

She wondered if they knew about Buffy, or if it was a coincidence. At least she had woken up wearing her clothing, so they hadn’t…. But then again, it’s not as though she hadn’t thrown herself at Spike every night that week.

Ok, think. Dawn unplugged the lamp that was next to the bed. It was pretty weighty, not that that would do anything to a vampire, but they didn’t exactly leave stakes lying around and it was better than nothing.

It seemed like she was in a master suite. Big bedroom, big bed up on a platform. Sitting area, fireplace. Lots of books. It was pretty swank actually. No dirty basement nest for these guys. Buffy had never talked about vampires living like this. There was an attached bathroom bigger than her room at home.

Home. Her mom must be worried sick. Buffy would be looking….

Dawn just had to stay alive until then. Because Buffy wouldn’t stop until she found her. Dawn was positive of that.

The door to the bedroom had to be locked, but it didn’t hurt to try. Dawn was surprised when the knob turned freely in her hand. She cracked the door, holding her breath, scared of alerting anyone to her presence. She was about to peek into the hallway when a hand slapped the door shut.

From the inside.

She shrieked and dropped the lamp. A big foot kicked it aside before she could reclaim it.

“I don’t think it’s all that gracious to run off without thanking your host, do you?”

There was no way she was getting out that door now. How had she not noticed _him_ in the room?

Dawn took a step back, and Angelus slid more fully between her and the door. Shit. He didn’t even look pissed, just…dangerous. She backed up some more on instinct, and he took a step forward. She mentally reviewed the room. Nowhere to go. She could lock herself in the bathroom, but he could easily get through the door.

“C’mon now, don’t be that way. I could have killed you in your sleep, but I didn’t. How did you sleep, by the way?”

She goggled at him, open-mouthed. Angelus smiled at her benignly, hands casually in his pockets, but it didn’t make him look less like a killer.

A monster. Because that’s what he was. God, she was stupid. Little Dawnie Summers does it again.

“Like someone who’d been thrown out of a car and then smothered.”

He held his palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, don’t look at me. That was all you, baby. Not exactly my style.”

She remembered his teeth on her throat and shivered.

Dawn looked at the door. “So uh…where’s Spike?” She was pissed that she’d been deceived by him, but…lesser of two evils. She’d feel a whole lot better if he was here right now. Preferably, standing between her and Angelus.

Angelus glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “He’s busy. A little tied up. And he wanted to give me some time to get to know our new roomie.”

“I don’t remember signing a lease.” She ignored the quaver in her own voice.

He laughed. “Don’t worry, we didn’t either. Mortgage is all paid up. Probably. Either way, not going to ruin _my_ credit.”

Dawn didn’t trust the laid-back, mirthful quality of his voice. “What do you want with me?”

He gave her a big smile then, face lit with straight white teeth, and she realized that he was actually pretty handsome. Her stomach rolled nervously. “C’mon, Dawnie. You’re a smart girl. Spike won’t shut up about how clever you are. I’m sure you can figure it out. Young and pretty. …Good genes.”

Dawn studied his faintly amused face intently. He was talking about sex, obviously, but did he mean Buffy? Good genes. They stared at one another for a long moment, frozen at an impasse. She almost asked, but if they didn’t know…. If they didn’t know who her sister was, it was better that they never found out.

“Yeah, well. I’m not interested.”

He smirked. “Ladies don’t lie, Dawn.” His eyes strayed to the ceiling as he sucked his teeth. “Course, ladies also don’t let old dead guys eat them out in public, so I guess we can’t really put you in that category any more.”

When he reached out to touch her face, Dawn jerked away. Irritated, he grabbed for her and she dodged, and he moved to box her into the corner by the bed. In a fit of inspiration, she yanked the cord for the drapes, and they flew open—natural light flooding the room.

Angelus recoiled onto the other side of the wide swath of sunshine. She could see his jaw clenching in the new light.

“Close them.”

“Hell no.”

“Waiting you out will only make me angry, Dawn. You won’t like that.”

She was shaking, but she was safe in her little corner. The door to the bathroom lay in the sunbeam. The door to the outside world lay in his territory.

She was safe for now, but she’d only bought herself time. A handful of hours till sunset. She thought it was still early afternoon.

He relaxed suddenly, and she thought it was strange how that actually made him look more intimidating. As if he knew exactly what he was going to do to her, and he’d have plenty of time to work out the details.

“Fine. Suit yourself. I’ll see you tonight.”

The door clicked and locked behind him, but Dawn stayed huddled in the corner.

Just in case.


	6. Chapter 6

“Kitten.”

Dawn jolted awake at the gentle call, panic clutching at her for a moment.

Spike stood on the other side of the still-strong track of sunlight. The clock read 2:52.

Her stomach growled.

“Yeah, you’re starved, poor thing. Got food for you. Come out of there.”

There was a platter. Sandwiches. Cookies. Fruit, ice cream. Three kinds of juice. Enough lunch to feed 12 people her size.

They probably weren’t in the habit of keeping humans alive long enough to know portions.

“No, thanks. I think I’ll stay over here, if it’s all the same to you.” Her stomach protested loudly.

Spike smiled benignly. “Well, it’s not. Can’t let my girl waste away, can I? You need your strength after that stunt you pulled last night. Don’t be foolish. Come here.” There was more firmness in his tone beneath the order. He gave her that charming smile to soften it.

Righteous fury welled up suddenly. “You’re such a fucking liar, Spike. Quit sucking up. How could you do this to me? I thought you were….” She huffed, uncertain what she thought. Unwilling to admit her girlish fantasies, now.

Spike’s head tilted, looking at her with cold calculation she’d never seen before. He’d always been so warm. “Never had to lie. As I recall, you weren’t that interested in my day job.”

Dawn _blushed_. She’d been so stupid.

“And I haven’t done anything to you yet. Nothin’ that you didn’t beg for, anyway. Can’t guarantee the same about Angelus, once that sun goes down, so be a pet and come take your lumps now. Sunshine can’t protect you forever.”

“Stop pretending to be nice. You’re not.”

His nostrils flared. “Not some clumsy boy you can lead around by the nose, no. But if you _behave_ , it’ll be a hell of a lot better for you here.”

Dawn noticed, suddenly, how bruised up Spike was. He had cuts, and splotchy purple marks around his wrists, and he was moving stiffly. “The way that _you_ behave?”

His tongue peeked forward through his mischievous grin, demeanor suddenly shifting. “I’ve always been a bad boy.”

The look that he gave her heated Dawn’s blood, despite how pissed she was. She was an embarrassment to women’s lib movements everywhere. “Go away.”

“Smell good, kitten.”

“Go away, or I’ll scratch your eyes out.”

He laughed. “Good clean foreplay, for a vamp like me.”

“Is that what _that_ was?” she asked, gesturing to his mottled face. Trying to needle Spike. Get a rise out of him with the implication.

His blue eyes were steady on hers. “Yup. Got it in one, pet.”

Blood rushed to her face. They…oh. _Oh._

Spike laughed at her, and she blushed harder. He stood up to walk out, taking the tray with him.

“Hey!” He turned around, regarding her with an imperious eyebrow. “Leave the food.”

He huffed out a little laugh. “Da says bad girls don’t get their dinner.”

Her one remaining shoe hurtled toward his head and landed with a thwap against the closed door. She heard him laughing all the way down the hall.

~*~*~*~

Angelus’ first instinct was to beat that pretty little body black and blue.

Of course, she was already black and blue from her attempt to flee, and that wouldn’t get him what he wanted anyway. Humans were so breakable. He’d taken the rage out on Spike instead, not that Spike had minded, the little slut. Angelus felt a little better once he’d ridden his boy ragged. More clear-headed. Back in control.

Not only would Dawn be no leverage against the slayer if she was dead, she wouldn’t be any fun either. And Spike got so pissy when you took a toy away from him. That would be tiresome as well.

Angelus could hold his temper to get what he wanted. And what he really wanted from the girl was complete and utter obedience.

That…might be doable. In time.

The punishment could wait until later. He did like it _so_ much better when they begged him for it.

~*~*~*~

When the sun went down, Dawn started to get fidgety. Angelus hadn’t come back yet. She thought about what Spike had said about her punishment, and she started to get scared. Every sound in the big house made her jumpy, and she was starving.

She had taken a long look out the window in the afternoon. She was two and a half stories up, but on an incline—the lawn sloped fashionably away towards what looked like a creek. So much for jumping. They were in some kind of ritzy neighborhood. The grounds outside were well-kept, so Dawn could only assume that the human owners had been alive until recently.

Dawn didn’t think vampires cared about landscaping.

The plots were huge. The nearest houses were far enough away that no one would hear her scream, or see her wave something out the window. There was something to be said for the privacy of the wealthy, she guessed.

When the door banged open and Angelus strode into the room looking stern and cold, you better believe that Dawn ran like hell. Her hands shook as she scrambled with the lock on the bathroom door, and then she started looking for a place to hide.

~*~*~*~

Angelus kicked down the door before the girl even had a chance to fold her slender body into the cabinet beneath the sink.

As if the rapid tattoo of her heartbeat wouldn’t have given her away instantly.

He rolled his eyes and dragged her out by one bare foot. She kicked out at him wildly, but he pinned her easily to the bathroom floor, holding her still with his legs and torso so that his hands would be free.

“Hold still.”

His tone meant business, but it only made her lash out harder. Dawn was struggling enough to make him more than a little horny, and the strong scent of fear rolling off the girl made his stomach growl. He hadn’t had anything to eat yet tonight because a certain _someone_ had interrupted his plans and forced him to run off on errands like some child.

“Hold still, or I’m going to knock you out.”

Instantly the fight went out of her, though she still smelled enticingly terrorized. He adjusted the collar he’d bought and fastened it around her neck quickly, then pushed to his feet.

Dawn stared up at him. Still scared. Now confused as well.

“Stay.”

Angelus brandished a finger at her with the instruction and watched the stubborn set of her mouth at being ordered like a dog. Then he turned and wandered out of the bedroom, leaving the door wide open.


	7. Chapter 7

Ok. That was…not what she’d expected. Dawn touched the collar at her throat, hand still shaking a little with the fright Angelus had given her. When he’d gotten on top of her, she thought he was going to…. She could tell he was excited.

She took a deep breath and gathered herself.

This collar kind of pissed her off. Was this supposed to be her punishment? Being humiliated like a puppy? Or was that coming later? Maybe this was just…decoration, or some weird kink.

She peeked around the corner of the bathroom, but he wasn’t anywhere in the bedroom. She heard a car start in the driveway outside.

Dawn scrambled to her feet and ran to the window. Angelus was driving away in Spike’s car. Maybe not Spike’s. Everything seemed to belong to Angelus.

Including her.

She pulled at the collar again, trying to work the buckle, but it was locked on. And it wasn’t like there was anything sharp enough in the room to cut through the leather. She’d already checked the bathroom for a weapon during her long, suspenseful afternoon. Dawn slumped against the wall, frustrated.

That’s when she saw that the door was open.

Not _unlocked_. Just…open. Wide open. It was the first time it had been that way since she arrived—they always locked it. Always.

She stared at it in disbelief for ten seconds before she bolted for it. She could run out to the road and wave someone down. Once she got to her house, there was nothing they could do, and Buffy would go after them, and everything would be—

Dawn yelped when the jolt seized her body two feet inside the door, frozen in a convulsion for one frightening second before she crumpled to the ground. Her body tingled, and the hair on her arms stood on end.

What the fuck was that? She felt along the edge of the collar before she encountered two short metal discs along the back of her neck.

He’d put her in…a fucking shock collar! Was he _insane_? You didn’t just put a human being in a fucking shock collar! In her rage, Dawn steadfastly ignored the voice sensibly reminding her that being human probably didn’t mean much, to Angelus.

It only made her more determined to leave. She’d just throw herself through the field that triggered the collar, and once she was outside of it, she’d run like hell. Once she was beyond the sensors that triggered the jolt, she’d be free. She knew how these things worked. Janice had one for her dog, because it wasn’t too bright and always tried to run away from home.

Dawn tried to ignore that little irony.

Her plan was solid in theory, but…Dawn couldn’t seem to get through the field. She received one jolt as she started towards the door again, smaller than the last. Then another just inside the doorframe. She flung herself into the hall, muscles aching now from the seizing contractions, and got another, larger jolt of electricity, nearly as big as the first. It knocked the air from her lungs, and she fell to the ground again, already dizzy from hunger. Hurting. Frustrated. Scared.

But she crawled another couple feet before another minor sizzle along her skin frightened her into stillness.

Dawn didn’t realize she was weeping until familiar arms folded around her and lifted her from the carpet.

“Told him you wouldn’t learn your lesson in one go.”

She curled into the disgruntled sound of Spike’s voice, too weary with the longest day of her life to care that she shouldn’t be clinging to a monster for comfort. Shouldn’t be crying herself sick in front of him. Shouldn’t be showing weakness. When he eased onto the bed, she didn’t let go. Just clung and cried like a baby while Spike cooed at her like she was one, murmuring and rocking her and pressing his lips to her hair, and it was too comforting to piss her off.

The little voice in her head that she called Never Like Buffy chastised her for breaking down and giving in less than 24 hours after her abduction. Buffy would have said something clever and played the advantage right out of their hands and looked perfectly put together the whole time, not splotchy and scratched up and slobbering all over a hot guy’s shirt.

Not a hot guy, Dawn. A vampire. Buffy never would have been in this situation in the first place, because she would have seen right through him. She’d never have _dated a vampire_ and not had a clue.

And Buffy sure as hell wouldn’t have kissed that vamp after he’d kidnapped her, held her hostage, refused to feed her, and let his buddy run an electrical current through her body.

But Dawn was wrung out and hurting and when Spike’s comfort-soaked kisses dropped from her hair to her cheek to her mouth—Dawn kissed back. She froze and took the attention that his mouth offered her, and when his hands ran possessively over her body, instead of slapping him, she pushed herself closer and moved her lips against his.

Bad Dawn.

But it felt good, when his tongue tangled into her mouth. It wasn’t scary, it was familiar. It felt good when his fingers, warmed from comforting her, slid under the hem of her top and toyed with the nipple that was naked because Dawn had decided not to wear a bra that night, to the theater. She’d wanted to put _that look_ on his face, the one he had now. The twist and pluck of his fingers at her breast sent warm liquid feelings to her lower belly, and it was ok to do this. They weren’t hurting anybody.

Well, she wasn’t. And neither was he, just this second.

Spike had been sort of coy on all their dates about pushing her along sexually, coaxing Dawn further than she wanted to go. He was so smooth about it that she often didn’t notice what he’d done until she got home and wrote about the way he touched her in her diary.

He was pretty darn direct now.

He pulled Dawn’s top over her head without preamble and latched his mouth onto her tit as his fingers slid up under her skirt. She didn’t have panties anymore—had lost those in the theater when he’d…taken them off, and had been more than a little embarrassed about the updraft in the car, sitting next to Spike’s friend. But then she’d had bigger problems, and her lack of underwear hadn’t seemed to matter much.

Spike worried her clit roughly, unzipped the skirt right off of her hips, and tossed it while she spread for him in a way that would have been mortifying if she could have held onto a solid thought. _He_ seemed to have plenty, lewd ones that he growled against her throat—literally, in a rumbling timbre that said ‘predator’ and made Dawn’s hair stand on end.

Made her a little wetter, too.

When Spike tore down the zipper of his jeans and shoved them down his thighs, Dawn expected him to plunge straight into her for one terrifying second. When he simply stroked himself against her without penetrating, she barely had time to register the wash of relief before the slick rub of his cock over her open body had her full and undivided attention.

Oh god, she thought her heart was going to explode, because the rest of her was about to, and he was thrusting against her so damn fast that she couldn’t catch her breath, and when she felt a sharp, searing pain against her throat and then suction like a hickey, she knew she was _food_. He was moaning like she was _dessert_ , actually, and why was it that sometimes mortal terror translated right into lust—you’d think that trait would have been the first to go, evolution-wise.

But it wasn’t, and Dawn came. Hard. Arching off the bed and keening, fingers scrabbling at blond hair, and Spike clutched her closer and thrust and thrust and then shuddered in a wet, sticky gush. And it all felt so good.

And when he went still on top of her, he went _really_ still, vampire still, not panting to catch his breath. His weight wasn’t unpleasant, but Dawn felt self-conscious now and distantly in need of a shower, as soon as she could feel her feet again.

Spike sniffed at her neck a little and licked at it, and when he finally pulled back to look at her, he looked way too pleased with himself. He looked human. Not just…not-demon, but actually human. If you ignored the way his mouth was smeared with blood, until he licked it from his own lips.

He stroked her cheek and grinned at her, cocky. “I cure what ailed you, Platelet?”

Dawn couldn’t help it. She started to laugh. She had a feeling it was crazy-laughter but it didn’t even matter if she sounded nuts now. He was naming her after a _clotting factor_ , and he was so freaking full of himself that she couldn’t even wrap her brain around it. He started laughing with her, his eyes warm, and she thought maybe he knew she was laughing _at_ him and didn’t really care.

She wouldn’t call him _harmless_ —not after he’d just taken her on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride while using her for a snack, and now expected her to thank him for it—but she wasn’t particularly scared of him, just this second.

Spike caught her up in a laughing kiss, and she tried to ignore that he tasted like pennies. Her pennies.

He nuzzled into her throat, attracted there on instinct. “Sweet to hear you giggle, kitten. Could be just like this, you know. Be a good pet, and I won’t have to use that retched thing on you again.”

Some of the mirth left her. “What thing?”

Spike fished into his jean pocket and Dawn blushed at the view she caught of his penis resting against her own thigh. She’d never seen one in person before. She was flustered enough that when Spike held up a small rectangular box, Dawn didn’t get it.

“What is that?” There was a dial and two buttons….

He gestured at her throat. “Remote control. Electronic leash.”

It took her a minute, but then she understood. Understood and felt abruptly ill. She stiffened. “ _You_ did that to me. Made me…you were pushing a button?”

Spike’s eyes went flat, face serious. “I corrected you when you didn’t do as you were told, yes.”

“And you just…. After you….” Dawn huffed in disbelief, eyes wide, and pushed herself away from him, out from under him. She hugged the bedsheet over her body. Her voice was rough and low. “Get away from me.”

“This thing is far kinder than what he could have done to you, believe me. We’re bein’ right lenient with you.”

He sounded _righteously defensive_. Her voice climbed in volume and pitch. “ _He_ didn’t do it, did he? Get out.”

“I know you haven’t really made his acquaintance yet, luv, but when Angelus means business, it’s best not to cross him, and you’ll do well to remember that.”

“Get out!” She shoved at him with her feet, trying to dislodge him from the bed. It was childish, but she was about to cry, and she wouldn’t do that in front of him. Not for a second time. She’d been a fool to trust him. Again.

So she held onto her tears until after he had slammed the door and she’d pulled her clothes on, feeling too naked to be nude. Then Dawn let herself curl up in the middle of the big bed that belonged to a dead woman, and cried her heart out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel duty-bound to point out that technically, a platelet is not a clotting factor. The term 'clotting factor' refers essentially to hormones that trigger coagulation. But Dawn doesn’t know that, and nobody cares, so I’m just gonna shut up now.


	8. Chapter 8

“How was she?”

Spike looked up from his book as Angelus entered the room. “Stubborn as hell. Had to shock her five times in a row. Gave the girl quite a scare.”

Angelus had expected as much. “Any damage?”

“Don’t think so…constitution’s definitely more than human. Nearly healed already from her tumble.”

Angelus nodded. Again, that was anticipated. He breathed in deep and lifted a brow. “And then you just had to comfort her.”

Spike grinned up at him shamelessly. “Well, yeah.”

“I thought ‘don’t touch her’ was a pretty clear instruction, William.” He let the light threat lace his voice. Not that Spike would act cowed. Angelus was surprised when the cocky grin shifted into a frown.

“Didn’t. Much. No need to worry though, she’s right brassed off at me now, thanks to your gadget.”

“Mmm.” Angelus eyed him. “I’ll deal with you later. Right now I need to get reacquainted with the girl. Leash?”

Spike handed over the remote. Angelus was halfway to the stairs when Spike stopped him.

“Angelus.” He visibly debated for a moment, but his boy liked to talk far too much to keep anything to himself for long. “Her blood. She tastes….”

Angelus’ eyes narrowed at the admission that he’d tasted her. “What?” he prompted finally, impatient to get on with the evening.

“She tastes like Slayer. Not like she might turn someday. Like she _is_ one.”

That was unexpected. “Except she’s not.”

Spike didn’t make a reply. Angelus didn’t need one to be made.

Well, wasn’t that interesting.

~*~*~*~

“Wakey, wakey!”

Angelus flipped the light on as he went into the bedroom. Dawn was sleeping, as any human would be at 4am.

She was cranky when she sat up, but quickly sobered when she realized it was him. Her heart pounded a little harder against her ribs, but she didn’t flinch or cower or run.

Might have been fun. But it wasn’t what he was in the mood for just now, so he was pleased at the reaction. This girl would take work. Just…not the usual kind.

“Come here.”

Dawn hesitated and he waggled the remote for her to see. She quickly slipped out of bed and came to a halt at a distance from where he had pointed.

“Closer, Dawnie.”

She edged forward warily until she was within arm’s reach.

“Spike tells me you tried to run.”

“Spike’s an asshole.”

Angelus laughed. “True. But he was doing as he was told, unlike you. You can expect more of the same, princess, if you keep being a problem child.”

Her chin came up a notch. “I’m not your child, so that’s pretty much where the problem starts.”

Angelus brushed her hair aside, feeling the shimmer of fear when he put his hand on the back of her neck, rubbing over the skin around her collar. “Don’t talk back.”

She was a little paler, but he still felt her bristle under his hand. Angelus could see why Spike liked this one—there was a strength about her.

Too bad he was going to have to pound it out of her. In a fashion.

His fingers continued to caress her neck. “Hurt, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said clearly. Her eyes were still on the ground, but there was anger in her voice.

Angelus smiled. “Good.”

When he seated himself in his reading chair and picked up a book, Dawn turned to get back into bed. Angelus bit back his grin.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Her eyes flitted to the bed and back to his, while he waited expectantly for an answer. “I thought….”

“Don’t think. Come here.”

Her pale blue eyes rounded when he patted his lap. She smelled like muddled thoughts: anger and fear and heartbreak.

Maybe he should _thank_ Spike for interfering with the girl. Then again, his boy liked punishment enough that he could kill two birds with one stone.

Dawn still hadn’t moved.

He tipped up a brow. “Are you disobeying me?”

Her body jumped, nervous with the ghost of an electric shock. Reluctantly, she settled herself in his lap, on the very edge of his knees. Stiff as a board.

Sighing and setting aside his book, Angelus rearranged her, dragging her back onto his lap and settling her sideways, pushing her head against his shoulder. She was tense, holding herself apart, but he rested his hand on her hip and began to read again as though he were unbothered.

He could practically hear the wheels in her head going at a furious pace. He ignored her.

It was a solid thirty minutes before fear fully receded and gave way to restlessness. She sighed. Shifted her weight. Tried to peek furtively at what he was reading, but she was at a bad angle. Sighed again. Fidgeted.

She was so much like William, it was uncanny.

Dawn must have been losing circulation in her legs, because she began to wiggle, trying to restore the blood flow interrupted by sitting still for so long. Angelus turned into her ear, and Dawn stiffened, undoubtedly unnerved by how close his mouth was to her face and neck.

He let a little air pass from his lungs over the baby fine hair in her ear. “Oh yeah, Daddy likes it when you wriggle that cute little ass against him like that. Do it some more.”

Instantly, all of her muscles locked up. She wasn’t even breathing. Angelus laughed to himself and turned back to his book.

It was another half hour before she drew his notice again.

“Is this supposed to be my punishment?”

He smirked, but didn’t look up. “When I punish you, you won’t have to ask. Believe me.”

She was quiet for a while, but he was counting down the seconds until she spat out whatever it was she was chewing on.

“Who did you kill tonight?”

Angelus set the book aside, and turned to look at her. She leaned back to get farther from him.

“A girl a little older than you. Blond. She was delicious. Made me chase her at the end. Why do you ask?”

Dawn paled, and he knew she was thinking of her sister. But her sister would have fought back, so she shook the thought off.

“Did she cry?”

He brushed a stray hair away from her face, eyes locked steadily on her own. “Begged and sobbed and once at the end, cried out for her mother. What are you hoping to get out of this story, Dawn?”

Her heart was thundering, and tears brimmed in her eyes. Crying bored Angelus, when he hadn’t done anything to warrant it.

“Time for bed. Have you brushed your teeth?”

She looked utterly startled by the solicitous normality of the question, and the tears in her eyes dried up. He gave Dawn a shove off his lap and smacked her lightly on the butt. She jolted.

“There’s a toothbrush in the left-hand drawer under the sink.”

~*~*~*~

Dawn was exhausted. Confused. Heartbroken. But neither of them really hurt her like they could. Not because they _wouldn’t_ , just because…. She didn’t know why. She didn’t know what to expect from either of them. She thought Spike was the nice one, but then….

She wasn’t entirely clear on why she wasn’t dead yet.

She brushed her teeth and washed her face and used the toilet. When Angelus called in to her to take a shower, there was no room in his voice for argument, and anyway she felt disgusting, so she did. It felt good, even if she had to put dirty clothes back on. She felt almost normal when she was done.

The sight that greeted her when she left the bathroom sucked all the good cheer right back out of her again.

Angelus was in the bed. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. She was strongly suspicious that he wasn’t wearing anything.

“You’re in my bed.”

He cocked a brow at her. “No, you were in _my_ bed. And I want it back.”

“Oh. Um.” She looked at the reading chairs. They wouldn’t be comfortable to sleep in. And she’d learned her lesson about leaving the room, that was for sure.

“Get in the bed, Dawn.”

Her eyes rounded. He was giving her a hard, intent stare that made her stomach squiggle. Keeping her eyes far clear of anything beneath the covers, she slid under the sheet, at the far end of the bed.

After a moment he sighed impatiently, hooked a hand around her waist, and dragged her towards the middle of the bed. God. He _was_ naked. He flopped onto his stomach, one thick arm slung over her middle and a thigh thrown over her legs. _Something_ was pressed up against her hip.

She wasn’t going to think about what.

He regarded her closely. “Do you always sleep fully dressed?”

She stared at the ceiling. “From now on? I’m thinking yes.”

Angelus was smug. “We’ll see about that.”

Dawn tensed when he buried his face in her throat, but he just mouthed at her pulse, then stilled.

She thought he might be asleep. It was hard to tell, but he wasn’t moving, body relaxed. She started to shimmy out from under him.

His arm and leg tensed on her. “I’m a light sleeper.”

…And it looked like tonight, she was a no-sleeper.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now with plot! hahaha.

Dawn awoke alone.

There was a tray of food on the table in the sitting area. Finally. Enough for more than one meal. She inhaled half of it, not really tasting anything, sitting back only when she felt ill from being so full.

Her bruises were faded, but she still ached. It was a little better, now that her stomach was content.

They left her alone for all of the afternoon and most of the night, locked in Angelus’ room. She read. Paced. Was bored.

No sunshine for her—apparently she’d lost that privilege. Black paint covered the inside of the window. She spent the more stimulating part of her day chipping away a small hole so she could look out, but now her little view was all smear-y.

When Angelus got back, she didn’t do anything to provoke him. He made her sit on his lap again while he read. She kept waiting for him to do something creepy, but he never did.

He never did. The next day was the same, and the next, and the next. She had no idea what they did when they went away. Actually, she wouldn’t even know that they _did_ go away, if it weren’t for the sound of the car in the drive. She’d only seen one room in the house, and Angelus gave smug non-answers when she asked where he’d been.

They didn’t fight, because he didn’t give her any real reason to argue with him. And if Dawn didn’t talk to Angelus, she’d have no one. She had found that out the hard way, the one time she had tried to kick up a fuss. She’d expected to be shocked or beaten—instead she’d been left completely alone for four days. By the time he came back, she’d been ready to cry with relief.

He’d made his point. Angelus was the only game in town, and she had no doubt that he could walk away and leave her to rot in here, if he cared to.

She didn’t make the mistake of crossing him again.

Dawn hadn’t seen Spike in three weeks. It still hurt to think about him.

She wondered if Buffy thought she was dead. Disappear in Sunnydale for more than a couple days, chances were good that you were. Morbidly, Dawn wondered if they’d had her funeral yet, and when Buffy had given up looking.

If she _had_ given up looking. Where was she?

Thinking about the family that had always seemed so complete without her ached. She wondered if anything had even changed, now that she was gone. The thought that their routines had gone on seamlessly brought tears to Dawn’s eyes.

So when Angelus got home at night, and his hand petted down her back during reading time, stroking through her hair and lulling her with light, non-threatening touches, Dawn didn’t pull away. She took the comfort, because it was the only one she had left.

~*~*~*~

Angelus really hated when other villains threw a wrench in all his carefully laid plans.

You planned and you schemed, and you cast out all the necessary threads, and then some other bitch tore through with the finesse of a bull elephant and destroyed everything you had worked for.

To add insult to injury, this Glory chick was stirring the slayer’s little group into a frenzy far more effectively than he was.

The night that she surfaced in Sunnydale, he and Spike had gotten into a…difference of opinion over how to handle her. Spike was brash as ever, but the hellgod was going to postpone their plans to seed their trap, in the very least.

Angelus, for one, had threatened serious consequences if the boy even _thought_ about going near the hell-god. It was unclear yet exactly what she took from humans when she sucked their feeble brains dry, and what her power might be over a vampire.

The last thing Angelus wanted was another nutcase on his hands. That got tiresome after a couple decades. He liked Spike with his brain intact, not that he needed to encourage the cocky little shit by telling him that.

So they watched. Waited. Made a hobby out of snapping the necks of the bitch’s scabby little minions whenever they could get their hands on them.

The Slayer’s wonder team was in a frenzy trying to figure out what the hell Glory wanted with a key, and how they could keep the thing out of her hands.

Spike and Angelus were taking steps to rid themselves of the problem.

In the meantime…no reason why he couldn’t play.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Wow, you’re a well-oiled machine. When you’re fighting brainless idiots.”

Buffy whirled around as Angelus stepped out of the shadows. “Oh. It’s you.”

She might be giving the pretension of disregard, but he saw the tension of her muscles and heard the acceleration of her heart.

Angelus realized, with satisfaction, that she’d finally been reading up on him. Or her watcher had. “What, no kiss hello? I thought you’d be happy to see me again. You flirted so hard the last time we met.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Please, spare me the over-inflated ego. I don’t have time for you.”

“Remind me again, was it my _over-inflated ego_ that kicked your ass before? I can’t quite remember….”

Buffy pursed her lips, no doubt annoyed at the memory. She should be grateful he’d let her go.

Angelus had never succeeded in _breaking_ a slayer before he killed her. Then again, he’d never had a trump card quite like this one. This should be interesting.

“Like I said, I don’t have time—”

“I think you’ll make time.” She opened her pretty mouth to rebut, but he cut her off. “If you want to know about the Key.”

That got her attention.

“What do you know about the Key?”

“Not much. Just what it is and what it’s made for.”

Buffy stepped closer, still wary but now very interested in what he had to say. How quickly they changed their minds. “I’m listening.”

“The Key used to be a mass of pure energy, but it’s been transformed into something else for safe-keeping. No one knows what.” Interesting. There was a flicker of recognition at that little factoid. The Dream Team had discovered something new. He’d have to find out what. “Mystical, of course.”

“Of course. What’s it for?”

“It opens the door to other dimensions. The god is trying to use it to return to her own.”

“…Okay. So…Glory wants to _leave_. Why is that a bad thing? Makes _my_ life a whole lot easier.”

Angelus snorted. “Not really, sweetheart. It’ll open the door to _all_ dimensions, at once. Including a lot of really nasty ones.”

The girl sighed, pushing a tired hand through her hair. “Of course it does. Isn’t it too early in the year for an apocalypse? I should still be way in vacation mode.”

“Yeah, well. I suggest you get back in the mood for work, fast.”

Buffy frowned at him. “How do you know all of this, anyway?”

He grinned. “I have some very useful hobbies. People find me easy to talk to.”

“Easy to talk to, or impossible not to?”

He pretended to think about it. “Little of both, actually.”

She regarded him suspiciously, stance still defensive and on guard. “Why are you telling me this?”

Angelus rocked forward onto the balls of his feet, as if divulging a secret. “I don’t like sharing the spotlight.”

“Great. Aren’t any of you villains shy? In it for the art and not the notoriety?”

He mused on that for a moment. “I did know this one guy. Marcus. Not much for attention…except for kids. He _loved_ kids.”

Angelus almost giggled with glee when her lip curled up. “You are…the worst kind of scum.”

“Thanks, Buff. That’s sweet of you to say.”

With a sound of disgust, she turned to go. He let her stalk off a few feet before throwing the bait out.

“How’s your sister?”

Buffy froze, turning on her heel. She marched right up to him and grabbed him by the throat—which was cute, given that they’d already established that she couldn’t take him. He chuckled.

“What did you just say?”

“Your sister. Hot little piece of ass, skirts too short. Needed to eat something. Used to see her around—” He sing-songed past her tightening fingers. “Where’d she go?”

“You don’t get to talk about my sister.”

“Woah, touchy subject. All I’m saying is…I’d do her. She looked hot for it. Is that where she went? Got knocked up and sent off to—”

She choked off the rest off his words and kneed him in the groin—or she would have if she’d been able to reach. Ballsy little midget. Suddenly tired of the game, he blocked her knee and bore down on her wrist until she let go of his throat. Buffy stumbled back, clutching her tender arm, and they squared off, at an impasse.

“You stay away from her.”

He gave her a toothy smile. “Relax. I’m sure you’d never let me get anywhere near her. Right?”

There was a shadow of muffled self-doubt before she turned and left for good.

Angelus was whistling as he walked away.

Speaking of Buffy’s sister…he was in the mood to celebrate. It was about time he broke Dawn in, wasn’t it? About damn time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda nervous about this chapter, which is why I've been putting off posting it. haha. this is the one I said required a chapter-specific warning.
> 
> this chapter contains bloodplay. no no, not *that* kind of bloodplay, the other kind.
> 
> *waits patiently for anyone that doesn't get it to catch up*
> 
> it's an old old kink of mine, that I mostly keep deeply buried and have anxiety about brining out into the light. haha. er, I should say it's a kink with vampires. not humans, cuz...ew.
> 
> if it squicks you or if this chapter otherwise isn't your cup o tea, never fear because this is a one-time deal. at least, us reading about it is a one-time deal...I'm sure Angelus will be doing it repeatedly. monthly, one might imagine. I kind of look at it as food kink. it's like whip cream only...vampier.

When Angelus got home that night, he was in an awfully good mood. Dawn asked why he was smiling, but he just winked and said, “Honey, I had a really good day at the office.”

Dawn laughed and settled into his lap without being asked. He always did anyway, and her day had been long. She’d finished all the interesting books in here a week ago.

Angelus’ big hand splayed over her hip, pulling her closer as he read with an absent-minded squeeze. Dawn tried not to squirm.

She watched him read, head resting against his shoulder. His face had grown on her in the last month. She used to find him cold and intimidating, hands large and capable of causing pain. He seemed like he wouldn’t hesitate to do so. There was something less human about him than Spike…not that Spike was all that great. The human part of _him_ was kind of a dickwad, as it turned out. Maybe it was better that Angelus was the way he was. At least with him, Dawn knew where she stood as long as she behaved herself. No scary mood swings. Spike was too unpredictable. She just hadn’t realized how dangerous that really was until she’d already let him in.

All told, Angelus had been pretty good to her since that second day. They joked around. His hands were big, but they were always careful with her, precise in the way that he used them, and his voice was always quiet.

When Angelus took up his regular petting rhythm, Dawn relaxed into the stroke of his hand. His fingers carded gently through her hair in a way that gave her tingles, and the weight of his palm was reassuring as it stroked down her back, always stopping when it reached her waist to start again from the top. Sometimes his hand took little side-trips…doodling absent-mindedly against her arm, cupping her face against his shoulder to encourage her to relax. Thumb stroking her cheek like she was…somebody. The affection gave her a pleasant ache—one that she tried not to feel guilty about. It was just simple touching.

To him, it probably meant nothing. But sometimes, she could pretend.

She was beginning to drift sleepily when Angelus’ hand smoothed down to linger on her ass. When the seconds ticked by and he didn’t remove it, Dawn tensed a little, uncertain. It wasn’t as though Angelus had never laid a hand on her butt or hips…he was always touching her, as if there was no part of her body off-limits to him. But he had never touched her like _this_. Fingers squeezing, rubbing. His caresses had always been sexless, casual. Matter-of-fact and familial…particularly the ones in sensitive places.

This was distinctly different, and it made her body tingle in a way that it hadn’t done since Spike. Angelus’ fingers were stroking over her cheek through the thin material of her skirt. Dawn’s heart was pounding. When she looked up at him, he _appeared_ absorbed in his book.

It occurred to her that he was breathing, although she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t a regular, human rhythm. He took slow, deep breaths, with long rests in between.

Dawn had found, over the last few weeks, that it was better to play along when Angelus had a game in mind. Safer.

She tried to relax, but just as she finally succeeded, his hand slipped lower and her breath stuck. He was almost touching her _there_ , fingers sweeping back and forth as if he was brushing the material over her crotch on accident. It made Dawn’s body throb in a way that embarrassed her, given the circumstances.

She was grateful the last lady of the house had kept a supply of pantyliners under the sink. Asking Angelus to go shopping for her was not something she wanted to contemplate.

Dawn held back the sound pushing at her lungs when long fingers flipped her skirt up enough to sneak beneath, rubbing lightly along the soft skin of her inner thigh. Her _inner_ inner thigh. Oh god. She should really stop him. But he hadn’t given any acknowledgement of what he was doing to her, and Dawn couldn’t…she didn’t want to ask him to stop. Not out of the blue. It would be mortifying when he toyed with her, and she would have to tell him.

She was aching and wet and struggling to breathe when Angelus finally stopped teasing around and touched her. His fingers snaked slowly through the leg of her panties, two fingers easing inside of her body, and when he began to thrust them, Dawn bit her lip, face heating along with everything else.

The pretense of the book was abandoned. She only blushed harder when he narrowed his eyes on her face, gaze flicking away a moment later to watch as his other hand slid into her underwear to rub her clit from the front. His palm was still cradling her ass, and he used it to haul her body up so that she was sprawled sideways across his lap. When he leaned in to nip at her throat, Dawn shuddered in fear. Or lust. Angelus didn’t bite, and when he pulled away, he waited until she opened her eyes before drawing his fingers from inside her and bringing them to his mouth to suck.

They were red with her blood, and it should have been completely disgusting when his tongue curled around them and he sucked them between his lips. But then his eyes rolled back at the taste of her—just a subtle but unschooled flutter—and he moaned. She could feel the noise vibrate through him and into her, and her breath hitched at the unexpected hotness.

When he opened his eyes, they were human but just barely, and his pupils were large, nearly eclipsing the brown. He inhaled again, and this time she realized he was _scenting_ her.

She felt a clutch of fear at the look on his face, but when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out.

Angelus hefted her up and carried her to the bed so suddenly that Dawn was still disoriented as he pulled off her panties. When he pushed her skirt up and kissed the inside of her thigh, she came to her senses. This whole thing was mortifying. Sitting up quickly, she scooted back, trying to cover herself, blushing bright red.

Not that she never wanted a guy to do that ever, but right now…no. No way.  
  
Angelus looked less than pleased.

One yank with a firm grip on her thighs and she was flat on her back again, one big hand on her sternum pinning her to the mattress. Angelus was hovering between her legs, eyes dark and predatory and one glimmer away from turning yellow. She’d never seen him this way before, and it was scaring her.

His tone was full of restrained irritation. “Be a good girl, or Daddy will have to spank you.”

Dawn’s heart pounded double, and it was so very wrong that it was as much out of lust as fear. Wrong on so many levels.

Not that Angelus noticed. When his tongue plunged into her, he closed his eyes and moaned, and she felt the vibration in her pelvis. It felt so good, and his fingers were on her clit. She panted, hands clutching at the bedspread because she was afraid to clutch at _him_. He ate her out—god, literally—with greedy fervor, growling now, and Dawn was burning up. She was still fully clothed.

His restraining hand moved away. It was unnecessary now because her squirming had nothing to do with escape, and when it slipped under her shirt and up her belly to her breast, the relative coolness of his hand was more than welcome. Angelus pinched her nipple, sucking on her clit, and Dawn was so preoccupied with grinding against his face that she squeaked when he suddenly shifted up, pushing himself to sit on his knees—pulling her hips with him.

His hands supported her ass so that her body was sharply angled. All the blood was rushing to her head, and Angelus just knelt there, confident, completely in control, eyes fixed on her face over the planes of her body as his mouth drove her on, hands kneading her cheeks. She was hyperventilating, and when the orgasm hit her, it was huge and scary. It blinded her, and she screamed, and he didn’t let up because he was an evil, greedy bastard.

When he finally subsided and eased her back onto the bed, Dawn was numb and exhausted and half-unconscious. Pretty sure she would never move again, and also pretty sure that when she got her brain back, she’d be mortified that she had shouted _his_ name when she came, as if they were lovers. Even more mortified at the smack of approval he had given her ass when she did, and the way she’d liked it.

But right now she was too satisfied to muster any embarrassment, filled with an overwhelming sense of well-being that she knew was false. It felt real. She wondered if this was what dying felt like. The light in the tunnel…knowing that something was gravely wrong, but feeling just fine. More than fine.

A gentle hand stroked Dawn’s cheek, brushed back her hair. Petted her in a fond way that was intended to rouse—the way you stroked a favored cat who had fallen asleep on your lap, when you were ready to stand up.

Dawn made a little noise in her throat.

“Wake up, princess. Look at me.”

The voice was gentle, but something firm underlying the tone made Dawn stir. When her eyes swept open, the first thing she encountered was a hard, pale cock, laying rigidly against an equally hard and pale belly.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

The large gentle hand stroked her again fondly, and Dawn’s eyes continued up to Angelus’ face. It was soft and heavy-lidded.

“Come on, Dawnie…you know what I want.” Muzzy-headed, she stared at him, eyes flickering nervously back to his cock. “Haven’t I been good to you? Be a good girl.”

His hand nudged her head forward a little insistently, stopping short of forcing her to do anything. Her eyes wandered back up to his face. He looked calm, reclining against the headboard. Expectant, but not angry. Something about his level of control reassured Dawn, because she understood the rules. Angelus was predictable.

All you had to do was follow his every whim, and he was a big fluffy housecat. The coherent part of her snorted at how delusional she was.

Dawn let her tongue dart forward to lick his cock.

Angelus exhaled a little moan, a small triumphant smile lifting the corners of his lips. His fingers flexed on her head, but he didn’t push. She licked him again. This wasn’t so bad, and he wasn’t really _making_ her. Well, not forcibly.

She started to lick him some more, broad, long strokes of her tongue, and his hand left her head to wander down her back, groping at her ass, which made Dawn throb a little in places that had just been returning to normal.

Angelus was moaning, looking so lustful that Dawn felt a surge of pride. “Fuck, Dawnie, that’s good. Pretty little mouth. Put it around the head. Suck me.” His fingers skirted the edge of her pussy, squeezing a handful of flesh again when Dawn did as he asked, putting her lips over the top of his cock and sucking a little, strange textures and tastes on her tongue.

“God. Pretty little slut.”

Offense rose in Dawn, then yawned and quieted, soothed by the hand stroking her face and eyes burning into her. He made it like high praise, love-words. Dawn’s neck was hot and her hair kept falling forward over her shoulders, and it made perfect sense when Angelus gathered it up in one hand on top of her head, holding it out of the way.

“Don’t move,” he rumbled, and he was breathing, big chest moving as he studied her. Spike used to pant sometimes when they messed around in his car, but she’d never seen Angelus this way.

He started to rock forward into her mouth, keeping a grip on her hair. He didn’t push very deep, and his hands were touching her lightly—one holding her head still, the other reminding her jaw to stay slack.

“God yeah…so good for Daddy, aren’t you?”

She couldn’t look away from those dark eyes. It was like being hypnotized, and even when his face changed and she felt a tremor of fear, his hands didn’t get rougher.

But his eyes narrowed on her, zeroing in on the vulnerable emotion, and his shallow movements sped. His flavor grew stronger, and his hand in her hair tightened when his other slipped down to massage his sac, and then with a few jerks of his hips, he spurted at the back of her throat. When she coughed around his cock, he didn’t do the gentlemanly thing and let go…held her head in place for one long moment as he came, and then released her so she could come up choking.

Her mouth felt coated and sticky, but…Dawn bent again to close her lips around his softening cock and suck, and Angelus jolted as if she’d shocked his skin, shuddering sensitively one last time before pulling her off, forcing her mouth away.

He hauled her easily on top of him. He looked lazy and powerful, stroking her body and arranging it on top of his. Dawn’s heart was still racing.

“You did very well,” he praised, brushing her hair back over her shoulder, and Dawn felt her hackles rise at how it sounded, like she had passed some kind of test and met his approval. But it felt good, too. Before she could decide whether or not to get angry, he kissed her for the first time. Kissed her firm and slow like he cared for her. Like he owned her. The first was a lie, but the second…. His thumbs toyed with the shock collar that hadn’t been used in so long, and Dawn shuddered at the reminder.

He pulled back, looking supremely satisfied with himself, and nudged her head down onto his chest.

“Sleep now.”

Dawn was tired and confused, but her body felt so good. Buzzing with goodness. She knew she wouldn’t feel this way in the morning, but right then, she felt content and strangely, safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does this mean Dawn is going to turn into an obedient little housecat for Angelus? *snorts* not likely. but you know...he is pretty good with the emotional manipulation ;)
> 
> oh, and I know people keep wondering about Spike. we'll be seeing him shortly.


	11. Chapter 11

Spike could smell the girl on his sire the moment he slipped into the bed where Spike had been exiled, down the hall from the master suite.

He tried to pretend that he wasn’t an enormous wanker for sucking Angelus’ fingers, still fragrant with the taste of her, into his mouth. And moaning.

He’d chosen the girl with a mind to have her, not beg scraps through Angelus.

Angelus didn’t mock him for it, thank Christ, and when Spike was done sucking away the taste of her, he fellated the other man’s fingers a little longer, teasing. He laughed with a gasp when Angelus rolled them, growling, until Spike was pinned beneath heavy muscle, one hand yanking his head back at a sharp angle and the other grabbing his ass, fingers pressing inside without finesse or apology.

He groaned. It burned, in the best possible way. Already half-hard from the taste of Dawn, his cock jumped at the snarl against his throat and the rough jab at his prostate.

His eyes rolled back.

“How is our little pet coming along, then?”

Spike grinned as Angelus nipped his carotid, drawing blood, hips rutting hard against his.

“Slowly.”

Their little nibblet was driving Angelus barmy. The waiting game was far from being a new technique—it was the gentleness that was killing. The sweet consideration that would endear him to the girl, infatuate her (in theory) beyond loyalty to her sis. It didn’t come naturally to the great git, to touch without taking.

‘Course, as Spike had pointed out long ago, it did come naturally to _him_ , and they only needed the girl infatuated with one of them to do the trick, but…it wouldn’t do for His Highness to be anything other than the center of attention.

Instead, Angelus gave the girl what she needed every night, then snuck down the hall to put Spike’s body to hard use. Spike wasn’t bitching about the arrangement.

He moaned as Angelus sank his teeth into his earlobe, drawing blood, and soothed over the abused flesh with a clever tongue. “You know what else tastes like the girl?”

Angelus gave a rather un-subtle twist of his hips that gave Spike pause. “You don’t say.”

It was fell short of its intended flirtation. His gut felt heavy with disappointment…he thought he’d be present when Angelus finally took the girl. He wondered if she had been frightened.

Angelus sure as fuck-all didn’t know how to comfort anyone.

It might have been his imagination, but he thought the big hands clutching his body grew a little less rough.

“It was just the warm-up, William. I didn’t fuck her.”

Muscles he didn’t realize were tense gave, and as Angelus rolled onto his back, Spike heard what wasn’t being said.

_I wouldn’t do it without you. Not this one._

_I know, Angelus. Thank you._

They didn’t say that, ‘course. Instead, Angelus lay back and looked at him expectantly, and Spike said thanks the best way he knew how—tight lips and an open throat as Angelus drove into his mouth fast and hard. Drilling the mingled taste of the three of them into the back of his throat until he emptied himself, and then pounding Spike’s ass until they both came again.

Tomorrow Spike’s lips would be bruised and his throat would be sore, and sitting down would be optional at best…but when Angelus slipped away so that Dawn would wake up thinking he’d never left—that was when Spike realized he didn’t like this arrangement at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometimes Angelus liked to see just how quickly he could make Dawn beg for him like a whore. She didn’t make it easy—sure, he could have her whimpering and fucking his hand easily enough, but actual begging…that took work.

They were so close.

He brushed his mouth along the soft skin between her thigh and her outer lips, smirking at the pleading twist of her hips, but he evaded. He hadn’t put his mouth on her since she had stopped bleeding…mostly because she stubbornly refused to give him what he demanded.

He didn’t reward disobedience.

Angelus’ fingers lightly traced over her soft, slick skin, sucking at the spot just above her hip as he ran a light finger around her clit. Dawn whimpered and bucked up but he didn’t alter the pressure with which he touched her.

“Angelus….”

He smiled.

“C’mon, Dawnie. You know what to do.” Two fingers slid inside her wet, welcoming heat, grazing over her g-spot with just enough pressure as he continued the feather-light touch over her clit. Her hips ground upward but he ignored the demand. He continued his slow torment, licking along the artery that throbbed with life under the skin of her inner thigh. Nestled in that little valley between two taut muscles, a gateway to so much blood…so easily accessible.

He’d never tasted hers, not fresh. Spike had beat him to it (and had paid the price)…but from what he’d sampled already, Angelus knew he had something to look forward to. He’d been waiting—careful not to cause physical pain, not wanting to destroy the convenient faith the girl had placed in his apparent predictability—but they were moving right along through a whole list of firsts, and he thought it was just about time.

The girl had come to trust him, just as he’d wanted her to.

Hadn’t hurt her yet, had he? No, that was Spike’s bag. Mean, mean Spike, who had injured her delicate confidence in his character.

Never mind that he’d done it at Angelus’ behest.

When one slick finger traced back to penetrate the girl anally, she stiffened. He only had to say her name once, full of censure, before she forced herself to relax and he was able to slide through.

She trembled with hitching, uncertain breath for a few beats as he continued to work her—ass, cunt, clit—and soon she was giving him restless, breathy moans for his trouble.

“That feel good, princess?”

He pressed against her clit and her hips jerked before he backed off again. She nodded her head, face flushed.

“It could feel a whole lot better….” Angelus flexed his fingers in all the right places, and Dawn whimpered. “C’mon, Dawn. It’s such a small thing I’m asking. Won’t hurt a bit.”

“It’s weird.” She bit her lip and bowed up, fucking herself against the steady thrust of his hand.

“Not weird. It’s who I am. It’s what you owe me. Say it, Dawnie. Be a good girl—”

She was writhing now, making uncomfortable little sounds as he kept her on the edge of orgasm. He could almost _see_ the moment when the thread of inhibition snapped. “Daddy… _please_ ….”

It was exactly what he had asked for—no more, no less—so he concentrated his touch on all the pleasure centers, riding out the hard buck of her hips and subsequent flinch as he pinned her thigh with his free hand and slid his fangs through soft, heated muscle until he hit paydirt.

Fuck. She tasted just like slayer. The undiluted power of the line ran in her blood, though he had no idea how. But it was better than that—even better than the now-familiar fear and sorrow of a dying warrior.

Because this time, the girl was coming for him as he drank her. Gasping and writhing and obediently sobbing out the word he’d provided, and just the taste of her this way alone was heady and intoxicating, the flavor of her quick-flowing blood colored by emotions and hormones and power. He clamped down hard on his self-control. New, hot blood throbbed to his dick.

He drove her up twice more before he was risking too much, then extracted himself carefully from the girl’s body. She was limp, and her heart was beating a bit too fast, both out of excitement and to compensate for the volume he’d taken.

She healed like a slayer. She’d be fine. Their own little renewable resource.

Dawn stirred with a throaty little purr as he mouthed over her throat and ear, unable to resist rubbing his overly sensitive cock against her slick, languid heat. The urge to drive himself inside was nagging, but he choked down on it, hard.

He had other plans that would serve larger purposes.

“So. Does this make you, like, the world’s oldest perv? Because I’m pretty sure you’re already breaking some kind of record for cradle-robbing.”

Her voice was still shaky with pleasure, and he had to laugh at her gall. No matter what he had done or might still do to her, there was a small piece of the girl that remained defiant and unafraid. She was a little like Spike that way, though she was more wary…being human, and aware of her place on the food chain.

It amused him, having a smart, fiery female around.

“I can think of a few who are older.”

“But none who are pervier, right?”

He smirked but smacked her sharply on the ass as he rolled them.

“Ow! God, _somebody_ takes this role-playing thing seriously.”

He dropped the tone of banter, though a small smile still touched his lips. “Who said we’re playing?”

There was a healthy flash of fear before she looked away. She was a shade too pale, but that was expected, given how much blood he’d taken. She rested her head back against his chest. He was sure she was dizzy.

“What year were you born? Human.”

His hand cupped her ass, shifting her into contact with his erection. “1727, in Galway, Ireland. Spike was born in 1852, in London.”

At the mention of Spike’s name, her slender body stiffened. “I didn’t ask about him.”

“And I didn’t ask if you asked.”

She was smart enough not to argue with that particular tone of voice, and then she realized she owed him a blowjob, and the subject was decidedly closed.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Except Angelus was far from letting it drop.

He thought he had been extraordinarily patient with the girl. His plans necessitated it. He’d given her time to adjust to her new life before he’d ever touched her. Given her more time to get comfortable with the idea of being fucked. She was coming along nicely, in the grand scheme of things. She panted for it, now. She was wet for him from the moment he walked into the room—maybe even before that. His dominance made her horny, though she tried to cover it with her smart mouth.

He’d been patient with that, too.

More than that, she _liked_ him, despite herself. Humans were rather predictable, in the end, and young ones especially. All that biology, geared towards finding a mate. All that social conditioning, geared towards finding Prince Charming. Anyone with self-control could manage, even if she was a little more difficult than most. He liked a good challenge.

The thing that Angelus really _was_ losing patience with, however, was her recalcitrance any time Spike was mentioned. It was tiresome. He’d indulged her for a time, because it served his purposes—and in fact, it had been his design. If Spike was the supplier of pain, then that left Angelus with the obvious role. Her isolation made her dependent on him for all her needs. Her loneliness made her affectionate, curling that sweet little body into his in a way that was guileless and trusting. And the fact that she was cut off from Spike allowed Angelus to maintain the illusion of control over his lust. He clamped down on his instincts in order to give the girl the careful touches she needed to be seduced…then when she had drifted off, he went down the hall to give Spike a rough, violent seeing to.

In that, Spike wasn’t complaining, though it was clear that he resented being usurped completely for the girl’s affections—not to mention being left without a taste of her himself.

Spike’s dissatisfaction would not have been a problem in itself, but the truth was this game was getting tiresome. Dawn was nearing the point where she would accept his roughness—moaned when he yanked her hair as she sucked him off, came screaming when he sank his teeth into her tender flesh. He’d always have to reign his strength in with her, unless he wanted to break the girl, but he was impatient to leave bruises on those pretty hips. Watch her moan around Spike’s cock as he fucked her with a tight grip.

Angelus was tired of hearing Dawn complain about his boy, when he had given her one _mild_ physical punishment six weeks ago. He was tired of secreting Spike away in another bedroom, when he belonged in Angelus’ bed.

It was especially tiresome to walk all the way down the hall to take the boy, when he should have been able to just roll over.

And he wouldn’t admit it to Spike, but he missed his company.

Angelus was done being patient. His plan was a rather blunt one, because he no longer saw the need to be subtle.


	12. Chapter 12

Angelus was daft.

‘I’m growing tired of the way she complains about you,’ he’d said. ‘She liked you well enough before. She just needs to be reminded how much. Besides, she worships the ground I walk on and licks my bloody boots and wouldn’t dream of kicking up a fuss about who I tell her to shag—’

Okay, maybe Spike was embellishing on that last bit. Point was, Angelus thought he could just throw Spike into bed with Dawn, decree their differences resolved, and it would be so. Spike had narrowly avoided snorting in his face, because after a century or so, he had learned that if you were going to go behind Daddy’s back about something, it was best to not give him a tip-off ahead of time.

Or else getting your bum paddled wasn’t really the thing you had to look forward to.

The trouble was, Angelus could mindfuck with the best of them, but manipulation of the benign sort was a bit of a novel practice. He didn’t really know how to bend women without breaking them. He just thought he did.

Lucky for both of them, Spike excelled at his true role in Angelus’ life…to save him from himself, long before he knew he needed saving.

So Spike held his tongue (mostly) while Angelus revealed his bloody brilliant plan, and bided his time till the master of the house absented himself for the evening.

Then he slipped into the bedroom that was strictly, expressly off-limits. Frankly, he was shocked he hadn’t snuck in here before now.

The room was very dark once the door shut behind him, but Spike could still make out Dawn, curled into the middle of the mattress, breath even with sleep. She was keeping vampire hours now, for the most part, but her ticking human clock still demanded a nap in the night, while Angelus was hunting. Helped that he usually tumbled her before he went out.

Spike drew close to the bed and studied the soft rise and fall of her bare chest.

Pretty little thing. She looked tousled and peaceful, pale skin glowing softly against the dark sheets, and she smelled of Angelus, which really, in the end, meant that she smelled of _them_.

She was theirs. It satisfied something deep inside him.

When Spike slipped carefully into the bed and brushed her hair gently from her face, she stirred and nuzzled close to him like a puppy.

She was warm and bare and oh-so-sweet, and he enjoyed the boon of her sleepy affection while it lasted.

Because inevitably, her heartbeat sped and her muscles tensed and her eyes opened already glaring.

She pushed away from him. “What the _hell_ are you doing here?”

Her voice was rough with sleep, and when she squinted into the dark, unable to make out his features, Spike clicked on the bedside lamp, casting a soft glow over them both.

Immediately, she pulled the top-sheet up to her neck and hunkered down, as if he’d never seen all her bits. Pity.

He leered anyway. “Miss me, did you?”

His grin was answered with a scowl. “About as much as you miss the electric chair.”

He tipped her a look, eyes drifting pointedly to her collar and back. “Exaggerating just a bit, aren’t we?”

“What do you want.”

Anger flattered her. The flush of her cheek, the flash of her eyes. The flex of her jaw. Spike reached out to stroke his knuckles over soft, heated skin, and she lashed out. Hit him, mad kitty, fuming when he took a firm but painless grip on her wrists. A short battle of wills ensued.

When he got around to answering her question, his tone was mild. “Missed you, is all.”

Dawn made a very un-lady-like snort, but Spike could be very dense when it suited him.

“What’s the matter, luv, you don’t believe me?”

She wriggled further under the sheet. “No.”

He studied her face until she looked away. “Well you’d be wrong. Thought about _you_ , sweet, not just that lovely body. Though….” His eyes wandered away, to the figure poorly concealed from him. “Might have thought about that a time or two as well.”

When Dawn tried to yank her hands away in a fit of pique, he shut her down.

“That was meant to be a compliment,” he clarified.

“Fuck you.”

“Now, now, let’s not go making offers we’re not willing to follow through on. ‘S not nice to tease a bloke.”

The tenseness of her body gave out abruptly. “You hurt me.”

Her voice was small, and the sweep of her lids did nothing to conceal from him the tears gathering in her eyes.

Spike sighed through his nose. This was the downside of their approach with Dawn—treating her gently, granting her some small measure of respect. She retained illusions about who and what they were. The conviction that affection and pain were mutually exclusive, for one. While it benefited Dawn in the long run that Angelus reign himself in, that particular notion would not most certainly _not_.

So he’d best correct it now.

“I’m not going to apologize.”

Dawn’s eyes rounded and she tried to jerk away from him again. “Get out.”

Rage smelled so bloody good on her. She’d be a lovely demon, someday.

“No, I don’t think I will.” Her heart skipped even faster when he shifted his hold on her, the pad of his thumb running softly along her pulse. “Why do you think I’m not apologizing?”

“Because you’re a dick.”

He smiled at that, all teeth. “My, my, the lady’s got such naughty _language_. But as it happens, that’s not the case this time. I’m not apologizing because I’m not sorry.”

“And that’s what makes you a di—”

“What exactly am I meant to be sorry over, hmm? Wanting you? Lying to you? Bringing you here to be with me? Not a chance, pet.” He leaned closer, eyes locked on hers. “Maybe I’m meant to be sorry for exacting a little discipline that leaves no mark, in order to protect you in the long run. Well, I’m not sorry for any of those things. Doesn’t work that way, luv.”

She stiffened considerably at the word ‘protect,’ chin lifting defiantly at the last. “Oh yeah, and how does it work, asshole?”

His grip tightened on her wrist until she winced. It would mark, but he was through playing. “For one thing, you don’t call me names like that. Ever.

“For another: I want you. I have you. Simple as that.”

She stared at him, speechless. Probably too pissed for words. There was a protracted period of silence.

“You’d better get all those human notions of love and sex out of your head quick, pet. They won’t serve you well here, and it’s only going to make this _difficult_ and _painful_. We’re demons. We don’t ask permission, and we don’t give consideration, and we like to hurt things. We get off on inflicting pain, and we don’t like it when the food gets uppity. You’re _property_ now, get it? And no amount of affection for you is going to change _any_ of that. All those ideas you have planted about how a man is meant to treat you mean _fuck-all_ here. I’m not a man. Neither is Angelus.”

Spike felt a twinge of sympathy for the tears that welled up, loosening his grip on her wrists to something more like affection. “You think I don’t know that?”

“No,” he said quietly, “I don’t think you really do. How’s Angelus treating you, luv?”

The change of subject threw her visibly. “He’s fine. _He_ ’s not the one that likes to hurt me.”

He actually laughed at that, out loud. Had a _good_ laugh at that. Christ, she really _didn’t_ get it. “Oh, he loves hurting you, pet. Has you begging for it, I’d wager. What he does best, really. Does he spank you, pet?” There was no resistance this time, when he brushed the back of his hand over her heated cheek. “Or yank your hair…bruise this pretty skin with a hard grip. How long does he make you wait to come?” he murmured. Her eyes had long since dropped from his. “Has you doing exactly as he likes, hasn’t he? Still think he’s Prince Charming?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Never said you were, luv. But he’s the expert.”

She was silent for a moment, and he let her be. Stroked her skin, letting his fingers follow the line of her arm, now that she’d forgotten to be hostile.

“I’m not…. Just because I….”

“No, I don’t think less of you, kitten. Never crossed my mind.”

Her eyes met his in a flicker of surprise.

“Let me ask you something, now that we’ve established Angelus’ impure motivations. What would have happened, do you think, if you’d gone on as you were before I taught you that harsh little lesson? If you’d kept mouthing off and running off and generally fighting him at every turn?” He was assaulted with a distinct wave of fear as she thought it through. “Yeah, precisely. There wouldn’t have been snuggling in your future, that’s for sure. He breaks people for fun, luv. I can tell you stories if you like.”

“No.” She was quick on the draw, though he’d had no intention of doing so. It was better, for her to be afraid but not _terrified_. Better if Angelus was not reminded that he liked the smell of fear a bit too much, for these circumstances.

“Look, I’m not trying to scare you, pet. Or maybe I am. These are lessons I want you to learn quickly, so that you don’t do something you’re going to regret. You’re lucky Angelus has taken a liking to you. He can be very dangerous. But just because he fancies you and is amused by your metaphorical knackers doesn’t mean you’re safe from him. And just because I’m not the one making the scary faces…you’re not safe from me either.”

Spike searched her eyes, trying to gauge if he’d gotten through to her, but it was hard to tell beyond the fact that he’d overwhelmed her. If it was possible, she’d curled in smaller on herself. He curled his fingers loosely around one bruised wrist and brought her palm towards his face, kissing it and soothing over the force he’d used with a light touch.

“I’m not sorry that you’re mine, kitten. You can’t ask me to be that. And I’m not sorry that I did whatever was necessary to get you here. But I do regret that I scared you.”

She took a deep breath and watched him silently, confused and troubled and just a little hopeful, though she’d clearly rather not be.

“And I do regret making you feel less than precious to me.”

Surprise, chased away quickly by more jumbled emotions. But she let him kiss her—briefly and sweetly, though he wanted to take more, once he’d had a taste of her.

When he sat up and folded her hand towards her chest, she pulled it under the covers with the rest of her, all cocooned in fine linen. His hand strayed one last time to her hair, fingering a lock. Then he stood to leave.

“We didn’t have this conversation. Take a shower ‘fore he gets back. He’ll know, but there’s no use rubbing his face in it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“What did you do to her?”

Never mind that Angelus could smell Spike all over the bed…the lingering presence of smoke and bleach and family. The girl herself was acting very odd. Withdrawn, and strangely agreeable.

Spike blinked up at him innocently, which they both knew was such utter bullshit. “Who?”

Angelus snorted and didn’t dignify that with an answer.

“Just had a little chat, is all. If you think she’d just let me shag her, mad as she was, you’re daft.”

“That is not a girl who just had a little chat. She’d being all….” Angelus gestured with disgust. “… _obedient_. And quiet.”

There was a ghost of a smile on Spike’s face. “Don’t worry, it’ll pass.”

“What did you say to her, Spike? If you fucked up all my hard work—”

“Oh, leave off, Angelus. It’s fine. Your little game is intact. Maybe even a bit farther along. You should be thanking me, really.” He waited a beat, smug smile spreading over his face. “Not that I did anything at all, because I wouldn’t dream of disobeying a direct order.”

Angelus glared at him a while longer, made a sound of disgust, and retreated back into the bedroom.


	13. Chapter 13

The breaking dawn barely registered inside the master bedroom as Spike slipped inside. The whole house was still, Angelus having retired hours before and Dawn with him.

Spike had been out on family business until the sunlight chased him home.

Things were infinitely more complicated than they’d originally suspected, and his head reeled with it. Spike had some very bad news for his sire. But it wasn’t Angelus that had his attention just yet.

The easy beat of a little girl’s heart. That’s what had his eyes riveted to the bed as he approached.

Spike hardly needed to look to know that Angelus was sprawled on his back, as eager to own the space around him in sleep as he was awake. Their bit of flesh, though, was curled into a discreet little package, limbs tucked up neatly as the line of her back nested against his sire’s side. Her head was pillowed on his outstretched arm.

She looked so startlingly fragile. It was deceptive, really. The graceful curve of her neck, the soft sweep of her eyelashes against her cheek. He could hear the blood flowing beneath the surface of her skin as clearly as he could hear the quiet whoosh of her breath.

It would be so easy to end this pretty little thing.

Spike turned away from the oddly disturbing sight and began to strip out of his kit. He was meant to sleep here tonight, though he hadn’t spoken to Dawn since their little girl-to-demon chat.

She’d asked for him today, according to Angelus. It was likely she hadn’t had this particular greeting in mind but…he’d explained the way it was, hadn’t he?

He was still prevaricating beside the bed when her heartbeat quickened, and then he saw her eyes blink open in the dark. She stiffened and he smelled fear.

He didn’t turn on the lamp this time. She blinked dozily in the dark and sat up, clutching the sheet at the last moment. Spike’s eyes shifted to Angelus, who hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Spike?” It was barely above a whisper, voice thready.

“Yeah, pet. ‘S me.”

The room fell quiet and still. Her eyes adjusted enough to the dark that when they fell below his waist, she blushed faintly. But then, after a hesitation, she twitched back the covers.

Good girl. Smart girl…quick study when she had a mind to be. She was pliant when he pulled her closer and brushed his lips against hers.

Just a girl….

“You’re still an asshole.”

The grudging murmur took him by surprise. His chuckle spilled into Dawn until they laughed quietly against each other’s mouths.

“Yeah. ‘Course, luv.” He shook off the melancholy strangeness of his thoughts. They had no place here, really. This part was meant to be simple. _She_ was meant to be simple to them.

They snogged. He’d forgotten how bloody warm Dawn could get, when he worked her up. And those little noises she made when he touched her…and all that soft skin. Hell. It had been too long.

He pressed closer, hitching her thigh up over his hip. She was bare, of course. Angelus wouldn’t abide clothing in his bed, separating him from what he wanted.

When Spike palmed her cheek and pressed her hips closer to his, Dawn broke away from his mouth and ducked, hips jerking back while his thrust forward.

Behind her, Angelus leaned up on his elbow, watching.

He’d been awake the whole time, of course.

“Dawn. Look at me, pet.”

Her eyes locked on Spike’s and his fingers slipped inside her, quick, deep as he could without busting her cherry. Her hips tilted ambiguously but when he thumbed her clit, the avoidance turned into a slow roll against his hand.

Her leg hooked higher against his waist and he grinned against her ear. “There’s a girl. Shh-sh-sh.”

Not that he really wanted her quiet. Dragged the plaintive little sounds from her with every thrust of his fingers.

Angelus’ hand slid along his own length to the rhythm of Dawn’s rocking body.

When Spike went down on her, she moaned and rolled her hips up to greet him. She’d blossomed a lot under Angelus’ hand, but that was hardly surprising. No longer ready to run like a rabbit at the first intimacy. She only needed stoking, not reassurance.

She panted and bucked and pulled at his hair. Spike was so bloody horny himself that when Angelus ran a light finger around his pucker, he bucked up and moaned. He cooperated as his hips were pulled to kneeling and then he was full up as Angelus sank inside.

It _hurt_. He arched his back and shoved his hips back harder.

Dawn gave an enticing little whimper, and Spike pulled her hips closer.

Angelus didn’t hold much back as he fucked Spike into the mattress, and Spike’s mouth and hands grew rougher on Dawn. Lovely thing. So lovely for him. She was twisting and begging, a light flush extending all the way down to her tits. As things spiraled outwards, he started fucking her with his fingers, stretching and thrusting in time with the cock up his own arse, and before long, a rough hand curled into his hair to yank his head away, removing the obstruction from Angelus’ view.

Dawn was getting close, and she whined at the loss of his tongue on her clit, but it was soon replaced with his thumb and Spike contented himself with mouthing the flesh of her inner thigh, tasting the sticky sweetness with a restless mouth as he began to see his own stars. Angelus fucked him harder, and Spike’s fingers moved more rapidly in response until Dawn bucked off the bed wailing.

When his fangs sank through the flesh of her thigh it was reflexive, the taste a surprise—starburst of power and pleasure and sweet little girl. Then Spike was thrusting forward into the large, tight fist that was suddenly encasing his cock, and his eyes rolled as he shuddered and let himself go.

He and Dawn were limp rag dolls, used up with pleasure, and Spike nuzzled up to love at her neck in the afterglow.

The hell of it was, Angelus hadn’t come. He wasn’t done yet, greedy bastard.


	14. Chapter 14

Dawn was sleepy, already drifting off, so she murmured a protest when she felt Spike roll their bodies until she lay on top of him.

Grudges were on hold in favor of moving as little as possible.

Not that she was holding that much of a grudge against him any more anyway. Stupid vampire, making sense.

Spike lifted her heavy head from his chest and kissed her gently, and Dawn admitted to herself that she had missed him. Angelus wasn’t cruel to her, but he couldn’t give her this—this human tenderness that seemed to come easily to Spike. She still didn’t understand how he could touch her like this one minute and threaten her the next, but she let that drift away as she got caught up in necking with him, cobwebs of sleep clearing at the feel of his tongue in her mouth.

His hands were cupping her face, so when two rough palms slid between their bodies to cup her breasts, Dawn moaned and arched up. She’d nearly forgotten Angelus was there. She shuddered at the mouth on her throat as he bent over her. She thought she’d never get used to that frission of danger.

Angelus molded himself to her back. She was surrounded by naked flesh and hungry mouths. He rocked into her as he toyed with her nipples, pressing her body down into Spike, who gave an appreciative little grunt and thrust up against her hip. Angelus’ hand slid up between her thighs to toy with her, hips grinding against her ass.

Dawn realized, belatedly, where this was going.

She’d expected it after that first blowjob, actually, but as time went on and he never so much as hinted, Dawn started to think he just wasn’t interested in that. In fucking her. And now, with his cock prodding her apart and his finger urging her wetter, she knew she’d been kidding herself.

She wasn’t sure if her quick heartbeat was from fear or lust. Maybe both.

But at least they were being…gentle. If not, you know, PC. They’d ever be that, but….

Spike’s hands slid down her body in a caress that seemed aimless until his hands gripped her thighs and hauled them upwards, opening her knees to either side of his hips. She was spread wide, and her body shifted restlessly when Angelus sank a gentle, playful human-bite into her shoulder as he nudged himself into her body. Spike’s mouth never stopped its lazy exploration of hers.

Their gentleness left Dawn completely unprepared for the way Angelus suddenly thrust all the way in, quick and hard. Dawn cried out at the sudden intrusion, and not really in a good way, but when she tried to rear up, Angelus held her down against Spike without any effort at all. Spike gathered her hair up in one hand and kissed her cheek, her throat, her ear.

“Sh-sh-sh. Quick like a band-aid, yeah? You’re alright. Hush now, it gets better.”

As romance went, it sort of sucked, but his mouth was worshipping her ear and her throat, and he stroked her sides with soft, gentling hands. Dawn found herself strangely grateful that Spike was here with her. This would have been so scary without him.

Angelus hardly paused before he was thrusting into her steadily, movements slow and precise, but not exactly gentle. He scraped his teeth over the upper part of her spine, murmuring “Fuck, Dawn,” as he moved over her back. Spike’s hands were on her hips, and he rocked her into him, rubbing her belly onto the erection trapped between them.

Her kisses grew more urgent as what Angelus was doing started to feel really good. She started moving her hips to an instinctive beat, pushing herself back onto Angelus’ cock, and both men made sounds of approval. Spike’s mouth dropped from hers again to bury in her throat as his firm hands urged more, faster. Angelus’ tongue was slick against her ear.

“That’s it, princess, fuck me. Daddy likes that very much. Show me you want my cock. Pretty slut.”

Dawn breathed out a whimper and started to fuck him faster, or rather, encourage him to fuck her. Angelus held all the power here, and she knew he’d sandwiched her between them for a reason. She was pinned, and her movements only did any good because he let them. That really shouldn’t make her hotter, but it did. She was moving frantically now, up on her hands to push herself back. Spike kept her knees too far apart to use for leverage, keeping her pelvis low to brush against his. His mouth was latched around her nipple now, moaning into her breast as she rubbed fast and hard against his cock.

She arched her neck for Angelus, moaning as his mouth played with her quick pulse. Dawn knew she was saying things she might regret later. Begging and swearing and telling him how good it was, in case he couldn’t tell. She called him Daddy because it was imprinted on her brain now, practically synonymous with Angelus’ cock and mouth and hands, and because it drove him to fuck her harder, rough and so quick the pleasure was almost pain.

He growled in her ear that she was such a good little girl, he would fuck her just like this for the rest of her unnaturally long life. When Dawn came, she couldn’t seem to _stop_ coming, body convulsing between theirs endlessly because Angelus just didn’t let up.

And then, one more startling burst of pleasure-pain as Angelus pulled her head to the side and sank his teeth in, drinking greedily. Spike’s hands squeezed her hips too hard as he thrust against her belly in a sticky gush.

Angelus drank for so long that Dawn was almost scared he’d meant for her life to become unnaturally long _now_ , but then he pulled away and licked at the wound. Hauled himself up to kneeling and pulled her hips higher, slamming them back onto his cock until she was almost sobbing, and then he pressed his hips flush with her ass and came inside of her.

Dawn was bleary when he threw himself onto the bed, grinning and laughing. “That was fun. Have to do that again tomorrow, after you’ve had your Wheaties.”

Spike snorted behind her, and then nudged Dawn against Angelus’ side where she was gathered in by a large, possessive hand on her ass. She was throbbing and sticky, and she dimly registered that Spike crawled around to Angelus’ other side, flopping onto his stomach and flinging an arm over his thick torso.

Then she was falling into a deep sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

“They put it in human form.”

Spike reckoned there wasn’t much could rattle a bloke like Angelus at this point in his life, but once he had finished saying his peace, delivering the information he’d rooted from Buffy’s merry band, Angelus had gone quiet, staring off as he soaked that information in.

The invention of an entire human being, and all that entailed…they’d never seen the like. Must take powerful magicks. Spike shuddered as he thought how powerful. Wondered what price the monks had paid to pull off a trick like that.

“They put it in _human_ form.”

When Angelus finally spoke up, he didn’t sound as though he remembered Spike was even in the room. Just repeated the fact to himself.

“Uh, yes.”

Angelus hummed. “Knew something wasn’t right.” He shook off his daze. “We have to kill her.”

Spike blinked. “Look, luv, I know we don’t want this portal opened, but don’t you think it’s a tad hasty—”

“Not Dawn, you moron. Glory.”

“Oh. Right. …Thought we were already gonna kill her.”

“We need to do it now. Soon. As soon as possible.”

Spike stared at him blankly. “Yyyeaaahh, and how do you propose we do that, exactly? She’s a _god_. Not exactly ripe for the picking.”

“Exactly. She’s a god. We’ve seen what she can do to the Slayer. What if one of those loose-lipped morons lets it slip to her that Dawn is what she wants? We might not be able to keep her from taking the girl if she comes for her. She has to be dealt with. Find a weakness.”

Spike snorted. Easier said than done. What did the poof think he’d been doing for the last few months? The bitch was unstoppable.

But Angelus had a point. This changed things. This changed _everything_.

“Alright. And the rest of the plan? What of the Slayer?”

Spike could see that Angelus had already slipped into a full-on brood. He was glowering at the desk blotter. “Everything else can wait. Even her. Find me something I can use, Spike. Find me a way to get it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eleven days after they all began sleeping (and not-sleeping) in the same bed, Dawn got a surprise.

She was allowed out into the house.

Ok, it wasn’t so much a treat as something normal people got to do, something she should have been able to do, if she weren’t being held hostage by two deadly and very horny vampires. But it was something.

Of course, she still had the collar on at all times, and when Spike and Angelus were both leaving the house to run mysterious errands, she was locked back into the bedroom. As Spike told her, “no reason to tempt you down the wrong path, pet. You just sit here all snug and think of us until we get back. Just don’t work yourself raw…that’s our job.”

She stuck her tongue out at his cockiness, but he just laughed, and then there was the sound of a key sliding in the lock.

It was funny how that didn’t really feel like prison, anymore. If she was given the chance to run, would she? A small, guilty part of her was glad they didn’t give her the freedom to find the answer to that.

There were only three big rules in Angelus’ house. Don’t try to leave. Don’t contact the outside world. Those were pretty obvious, she guessed, and she wasn’t given much opportunity to break them anyway. There was only one phone left in the house, and one computer…both kept locked away in Angelus’ study. As for the third rule…Dawn didn’t think it was a rule so much as a very prudent piece of advice.

“Don’t go down there,” Angelus had told her on the grand tour, pointing at the door to the basement. “You won’t like it down there.”

And seeing as Dawn could hear a grown man sobbing through the door, she strongly suspected he was on to something. They were keeping… _people_ down there. To eat. Like Snak-Paks

Mostly, Dawn just tried to never go down the hallway with that door. She didn’t want to know. Maybe it was cowardly that she wasn’t trying to run down there and free them, but she doubted they’d get very far before Angelus or Spike caught up with them. And then she’d have to watch…. And she’d never given Angelus a really good reason to truly punish her. She hoped that day never came. She wasn’t fooling herself about what he would do to her if she were on the wrong side of his anger, no matter how accommodating he could be when she behaved.

It was an odd thing, having so much space to move around in after being cooped up for so long. But it made things feel a little more normal. It felt almost like home to get things out of the fridge and make herself dinner, or laugh at something stupid on the television.

If home involved no homework, no parents, very few rules, and a couple of really old guys constantly trying to get in her pants.

She guessed you could say, it was a new normal.

~*~*~*~

“Whatcha watchin’, pet?”

Spike stepped over the back of the sofa and nudged Dawn, sliding in behind her. He settled her in the V of his thighs, letting her shift until her body was cradled against his chest.

She reclined against him, limp and trusting, like a girl who knew her place in the world.

“MTV. Real World.”

He tisked against her ear, fingertips feathering along the inside of her thighs. He grinned into her neck as they fell open for him with a sigh. “Sex, drugs, and rock, eh petal? Not proper viewing material for a young lady such as yourself.” The little scrap of cotton she called shorts was no real impediment to his fingers, and he found her clit through the fabric. Manipulated it. Slid fingers inside her tight quim. She never wore panties underneath them, and the fabric was thin enough that his fingers were soaked despite the barrier. He loved these bloody things.

Dawn’s head rolled to the side, breath hitching. Spike chewed on her ear smugly. “What would Da say if he found out you were watching such filth?”

A flutter of hot air preceded any attempt Dawn made at speech. Her hips strained against the restraining hand splayed across her belly…trying to ride his fingers. “Well this morning, he said ‘ride me harder’.”

Spike chuckled against her throat, feeling the jerk to her body…the flood of her cunt. “Sounds like our da, the lazy piker. Poor thing, you must be absolutely knackered.” His hand stole upwards under her shirt, until his palm was filled pleasantly with her breast. Christ, she had a pretty pair. He plucked at them until she moaned and ground down against his fingers, still twisting at her clit through the soft material.

“I’ll just have to do all the work, then.”

Spike pulled the soft t-shirt over her head and slipped the almost-shorts off and away, and Dawn leaned and wiggled to help him. He bit back a groan. All that beautiful skin. No matter how many times he’d had her in recent history, he was always eager to plunge back inside. And what’s more, he could. And she would claw and beg and whimper, and thank him for his trouble. Such a little slut for them.

His life was a grand thing of beauty.

Spike nudged her up to sitting and worked the buttons on his jeans with one hand, pushing them further down his thighs and tugging her back into his lap. He pressed her close for one sweet moment, nibbling on the back of her neck and working his hips up, savoring the way his cock slid through the groove of her buttocks. Then when she had melted back against him, he lifted her up by the hips and impaled her on his cock.

Her entire body tensed for a moment on a moan, and then relaxed back against his slouching frame. Spike pulled her thighs wide, hooking her knees outside his sprawling legs, and Dawn whimpered as that pushed him deeper. Her head rolled back against the couch, shifting restlessly as his hands petted over all that soft skin.

Spike smirked and chewed roughly at her ear, feeling Dawn clench around him. “Don’t let me interrupt your program, luv. I’ll find some way to amuse myself.”

Spike could practically hear her roll her eyes, so he chose that moment to move inside of her.

Slow, shallow thrusts of his prick. Lazy Sunday-morning fucking, the kind where you can’t be bothered with hard effort. Rocked up into her with indolent rolls of his hips, and Dawn moaned softly. Her neck stretched open to him and her fingers tangled into his hair when he accepted the invite with soft lips and the scrape of blunt teeth. Some tosser on the telly was whinging about dirty laundry.

Dawn’s upper body arched up into his rough palms when he kneaded her breasts. It drove her further onto his cock and Spike moaned, banding one arm around her waist to hold her still. When his other hand began to tease at her upper thigh and outer lips, her heartbeat leapt faster. Her hips tried to twitch up into his hand and put him where she wanted him, and when he wouldn’t let her, she made the most deliciously incoherent pleading sounds in the back of her throat.

Angelus slipped silently into the room and settled himself into the armchair in the corner.

Grinning, Spike breathed into Dawn’s ear. “You love it, don’t you, kitten. Such a hot fuck—gagging for it.”

Dawn’s eyelids fluttered and she bit her lip, trying to work her clit against his cock in the face of his neglect, but she couldn’t quite get there. He wouldn’t let her attain the right angle. She was flushed with heavy breathing. “Spike—”

“Ah-ah-ah!” He pinned her roving hand to the couch. “Good girls don’t get played with till they’ve made their daddies happy. You know what we want.” Dawn’s small frame rocked with a shudder, but she was still coherent enough to register the plurality. Her eyes blinked open dozily and settled across the room, where Angelus was watching them with hooded eyes. Stroking himself. Her quim clutched at Spike, though she buried her nose abashedly in his throat. Took a few calming breaths of his scent, though Spike could feel her throbbing in anticipation of her words.

His fingers ghosted close along her inner thigh and she shuddered, a fresh wave of slick soaking his cock, and he wanted to bend her in half and fuck her till she screamed.

“Say it, kitten. Say it and we can play.”

The muscles of her abdomen tightened under his arm. Her face remained buried in his neck, humid air fluttering quickly against his stilled artery. “I’m a good—”

“Gonna have to say it a bit louder than that, pet. Da is old and hard of hearing.” Spike tried to contain his laugh as Angelus made an obscene gesture in his direction. Somebody was gonna get a spanking later. Goody.

He could hear her heart pounding. “I’m a good little fucktoy.” Spike grinned at the way her muscles clenched down on his cock, even as he felt his stones tighten up against his body.

“Whose?”

Dawn squirmed, impatient for her reward. “Yours. Angelus’.” Her breath hitched, eyes focusing blurrily on Angelus, and without prompting, reiterated, “I’m a good little fucktoy for you, Daddy.”

On being addressed, Spike heard Angelus growl in the corner.

Dawn’s whole body jolted when Spike’s fingers gave a light, teasing pass over her inner lips, and she nearly came from that. She’d performed well, but they both knew she wasn’t done. “And?” he murmured silkily, guiding her face away towards the wall so he could lave at her throat.

Dawn was breathing hard now, quivering with anticipation. “And I love it.”

“Good girl,” he muttered, but he didn’t reckon she cared, because his fingers were already twisting her clit and her body was seizing up hard in a high cry. She danced for him as he rubbed her round and round, and her throat tasted salty with a sheen of sweat just before he sank his teeth in and began to pull gently at her vein.

Fuck him—it tasted just like slayer blood, well and truly, and it never failed to rocket him into the stratosphere. Growling into her flesh, he lost himself in a handful of hard, deep thrusts that had the Bit crying out for him and came, as far inside as he ever would be.

She was sweet and powerful and the tastiest treat he ever did have…and now he knew why.

They were never letting this one go.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um. *cough* warning for unapologetic kink-scratching. really. it's quite shameless. and gratuitous. really, really gratuitous.
> 
> and there's some plot advancement too. and the kink might even have a purpose in relationship development and the establishment of boundaries.
> 
> but mostly? kinkety kink-kink-kink.

When it came right down to it, Dawn was spoiled.

She hadn’t really seen that coming. Not only because…hello, human, vampire, vampire. Who would have guessed she’d end up with some of the power? But also, for a couple of confirmed eternal bachelors, they both seemed to know a lot about women. They brought a constant stream of gifts—clothes and makeup and jewelry and, of course, lingerie. She’d never really been much of a fussy girl, but they had really great taste, and it felt good that they thought of her when they were out.

For her own sanity, she pretended that they purchased everything they gave her. Dawn was getting really good at the denial game.

The gifts didn’t end there. When she mentioned her boredom, Angelus reappeared with half the public library.

Spike showed up with half the sex shop.

There were a lot of things that Dawn couldn’t put a name too. Some of the things, Dawn couldn’t guess the _function_ of.

Spike just grinned and promised to show her.

Over the next several weeks, many happy hours were spent getting acquainted with everything Dawn had ever heard of, and a lot of stuff she hadn’t.

The books were fun too.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It wasn’t until Dawn asked to be allowed outside during the day that Angelus ever gave her a flat-out ‘no.’ She wasn’t in the habit of asking for things he’d really object to, but to feel the sun again…to breathe fresh air….

She begged. She pleaded. She used every tactic she’d ever known from 17 years of being a little sister and the youngest daughter.

She even played Spike and Angelus off of each other. Worked with her mom and dad, before _and_ after the divorce.

Eventually she got her way. She convinced Angelus that she really didn’t want to leave. She just wanted to be _human_. It was spring, and she’d been cooped up in the house forever. For months, literally, without setting foot out the door.

The first time, he and Spike stood in the shade of the house’s porch, watching vigilantly as she lazed in the grass. She knew his hand was wrapped around the collar’s trigger hard enough to bust the plastic.

On edge, much? They didn’t like that she was beyond their reach when she was outside and there was nothing they could do about it.

So she took to teasing them. Sun-bathing topless really worked.

Sometimes, getting punished could be fun.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dawn was pretty bored. Spike was out on some errand Angelus had sent him on, and there was nothing on tv at 3am, even if you had digital cable with all the extra channels. She’d always thought there was _something_ on cable, but now that she was nocturnal, she knew better.

She wondered what Angelus was doing. There was a study on the first floor that he used sometimes. It was kind of his place…no humans allowed. There weren’t many closed doors between them anymore, and the fact that there were any irked her tonight.

Dawn sighed and threw her head back against the couch. She was so restless. He’d been in there for hours.

He wouldn’t mind if she just peeked her head in.

~*~*~*~

Angelus was on the phone when the door to the office cracked open and Dawn slipped through.

“Mmhhmm. I think that’s a wise decision you’re making.” He cocked a brow at her silently, and she flushed, clearly aware that he’d meant for her to leave him be. She didn’t duck back out though, just stood in the doorway fidgeting as Angelus let his eyes wander coolly over her body. Instantly, she smelled sweet for him. His little girl was always ready for a good fuck. And the outfit she was wearing was giving him ideas. Really good ideas.

Angelus continued his line of conversation, albeit vaguely, and he gestured her closer. Dawn grinned and closed the door. They were spoiling her. She thought she was sneaky, and they indulged her…but just now, as she came towards him in that little plaid skirt, Angelus didn’t mind spoiling her a little more.

“No, next week isn’t soon enough. I need to know immediately.” He pulled her into his lap and palmed one bare ass cheek under her skirt, fingers teasing along the damp crotch of her thong. She was trying to muffle her little purr, self-conscious of the phone. His blunt teeth sank into the flesh of her throat and she tremored. “It’s regarding one of my favorite possessions,” he said into the phone. “Losing it at this point in time would really piss me off. You don’t want to piss me off, do you?”

Angelus smiled at Willy’s frantic apologetics pouring through the phone. “Good. I want to know by Thursday, or I’ll come looking for you. And I promise you won’t enjoy the social call nearly as much as I will.”

He hung up on panicked babble.

“What was that all about?”

“I thought we’d taught you better than to open doors we’d closed, princess.”

Angelus clearly heard her heartbeat accelerate. “I was just…. I was lonely.”

“Mmm.” He buried his nose in the sweet spot of her jaw, just behind her ear, and inhaled. “You were lonely, huh?”

Dawn shifted restlessly in his lap as he kissed her throat, caressing the soft skin of her ass. “Yes. I don’t like it when you guys are busy.”

At the pout in her voice, Angelus laughed softly into her ear. It wasn’t so long ago she was swearing off their company completely. “Is my girl feeling neglected?”

Dawn looked away pissily, obviously aware that he was teasing her. “Sort of.”

“Mmm. Well, we can’t have that. But you know what Daddy really can’t have?” Angelus turned Dawn’s face towards him with one finger when she didn’t answer. Her heart was beating hard in anticipation of punishment. She hadn’t lost all of her fear of him, and that was a good thing. For both of them. “Daddy can’t have you breaking the rules when you know better.”

Dawn dropped her eyes down and to the side, though he still held her face. “I know. Sorry.”

“It’s ok, baby, you did it because you missed me, and _that_ gets rewarded. So we’re gonna play a little game.”

Dawn’s eyes flicked up to his warily. “Game?”

“Yup. I have to spank you, but there’s something else I want more.” She smelled of fear and lust and curiosity, expression uncertain. He smiled in anticipation of giving her another little shove off-balance. “You look really sexy today.”

“I….” She looked down at what she was wearing as if she’d forgotten, and when she saw the little plaid skirt and the white shirt, tied up and buttoned low to show more skin, she blushed. She’d chosen it with them in mind. To show herself off to them. What a good girl.

“Always have had a thing for Catholic schoolgirls,” Angelus mused. “They taste so good.” Dawn shuddered when he nicked her and sucked on the cut. “Of course, real schoolgirls show a lot less skin, and taste a lot more innocent. But you’re a naughty girl for Daddy, aren’t you?”

Her breath was ragged.

“Up!” Dawn was startled when Angelus suddenly shoved her off his lap, catching her arm to keep her from falling in a heap on the floor and using it to haul her upright. He shoved her over the edge of his desk, rolling his chair until he was directly behind her, getting a delicious peek up her skirt.

It really was _sinfully_ short.

He ran his hand over her smooth cheek, letting his thumb graze her outer lips. She gasped and stiffened, a little scared and a lot turned on. “I think any girl dirty enough to wear a skirt like this would get held after class, don’t you?”

Dawn made a mewling little noise, pushing back into his palm.

“I think you should call me Father Mackey.” Dawn had barely stiffened in shock over that blasphemy when Angelus’ hand came smacking down hard on her creamy skin, skirt swept aside. A bright red handprint stood out clearly.

Dawn struggled to stand despite his hand holding her down. “What the hell?”

He smacked her ass half a dozen times in rapid succession. “Don’t blaspheme, child. Do I make myself clear?”

She looked back at him over her shoulder, eyes blazing with resentment, hair tumbling down her back. “Yes, Father.”

She colored when he smirked at her, heavy-lidded, but then her head fell back against the desk as he took to spanking her again. She flinched with each blow, but soon she was pushing her arse back into them as well, arching her back like a kitten in heat. And the way she moaned the priest’s name breathlessly as she did…well, Christ, he thought she’d taken her punishment quite well.

Dawn jolted and cried out when he sucked her clit through the fabric of her thong.

“Stand up, Miss Summers.”

She rose shakily and turned to lean back against the desk, flinching a little as the edge made contact with her ass. He traced one finger into her cleavage and down her exposed belly, hooking into the waistband of her skirt.

“You’re a sinful little whore, aren’t you, Miss Summers? Tempting good, pious men such as myself.” His stare was hard and unforgiving on Dawn’s flushed face. “I think you should get on your knees for me, where you belong.”

Dawn’s breath hitched as she folded. She was always just on the verge of talking back to him when he spoke to her that way, still independent and strong-willed after everything they’d done to her. But she liked it. They both knew that.

She sucked his dick with fervor, playing her part of the little harlot while he played his, spouting disapproval and condemnation even as he leaked pre-come onto her tongue.

“Enough teasing. Come fuck yourself on my cock. I can smell your lust from here, and it sickens me.”

Her cheeks were hot pink as she climbed into his lap, but she sank onto his cock and ground her pelvis against his like a trained whore.

He ran a cool hand up the slick heat of her spine, pressing her close and tonguing her throat as she rode him. His breath against her ear was hot with exertion, voice sibilant. “Ohh, yesssss. Such a good whore for Daddy, aren’t you? Hungry for his cock. Tell me.”

He spread her cheeks with his palms, index finger sliding along her crack and ringing her asshole. A small desperate sob sounded against his ear, and he had to restrain himself from thrusting violently upwards, body vibrating with the need to possess her.

“Daddy….” Dawn moaned, screwing him faster, rebounding on and off his cock. “God, Daddy, I’m such a bad girl—”

Angelus stilled her despite the demands of their bodies. No thrusting, no fucking, just the slow torturous grind of her clit against the base of his cock, and when he sank his fangs high into her throat and drank, she gripped him closer and tried to wring a few restrained thrusts from him to finish herself off.

She pulled him down with her as she came.

Angelus groaned and fell back against the chair, sated and exhausted for once. He pulled a drowsy Dawn into the soft material of his shirt, encouraging her to curl against him as he leaned back, on the verge of sleeping.

“I’m not….”

Her voice was small and muffled, and he stroked a hand through her hair absently. “Mmm?”

“I’m not… _bad_ ….”

It might be the afterglow talking, but just now he had no urge to push the girl down or fuck with her head. He guided her face up for a kiss, before laying it gently back against his chest, soothing her with a stroking hand.

“Not that way, no. You’re perfect, princess. Now go to sleep.”


	17. Chapter 17

Sometimes, she caught Spike and Angelus discussing things in confidence.

She pretended that she didn’t, because it was obvious they were trying to keep something from her, and honestly, she didn’t want to know what it was. She doubted it was anything she wanted to know.

Spike told her stories, sometimes. Things that horrified and titillated her. She probably shouldn’t be entertained by the stories of a killer…the stories of _two_ , but it was easy to pretend they were just that: tales woven to chill her blood in the dark. He would tell her all sorts of horrible, fascinating things while they were snuggled up on the couch, or lounging in bed, or facing one another cross-legged over a dealt deck of cards. Angelus would chime in, adding or correcting or scolding, and then Spike would pull a face, and Dawn would laugh.

It was strangely cozy. Familiar. It was easy to get caught up in Spike’s enthusiasm, and—she never thought about this for long—strangely satisfying to learn that they were legends. They were the best at what they did. They were infamous.

It made her feel weirdly proud of them. If she ever got the chance to talk to Buffy again…if she ever got the chance, she definitely wouldn’t be mentioning _that_.

And then one night, Spike told her about what they were _really_ known for.  
And while all the other stories had given her a vicarious kind of thrill…these stories….

These stories—the ones that finally turned her stomach in a way she couldn’t ignore—were about Slayers. Slayers they’d fought and Slayers they’d killed…China, Paris, Cairo, New York…it always ended the same.

And it didn’t end well for the good guys.

And suddenly, she felt ill with knowledge, because it was clear that they knew who her sister was. Even though she’d never told them. They must have known before they ever took her.

“You’re here to kill Buffy.”

He was such a lousy liar. The pause was too long, and his eyes were insincere. “No, pigeon.”

“ _Spike._ ” She was so close to tears. Her nose felt all gooey with snot.

“It’s why we came here, yes.”

She snuffled and pushed back the tears. “Have you done it?”

Her voice cracked, and he reached out to comfort her but she jerked away. “No. Reckon we’d’ve left already if we had.”

“And I’d just be…what, the bonus gift? Or would you have killed me too?”

“Dawn….”

“Does she know? She doesn’t…she doesn’t know that you have me, right?” If Buffy knew, and hadn’t come for her….

“No.”

She swallowed. Her hands were shaking. That was something, at least. Why hadn’t they come for her? “When are you gonna do it.”

She wanted to tell him not to bother looking sad and sorry. He’d already proven to her that he didn’t do remorse.

Angelus had been out that night, but he had paused, quieting her and listening before he pulled her close. She resisted, but he was stronger. “Dunno if we are anymore, kitten.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She wanted it to sound angry, but instead it came out kind of pitiful, muffled against his chest as tears started coming. He rubbed her back.

“Not. Hard to tell with Angelus, but I think he’s lost the game. For now. And later, I could…. He’s distracted.” Spike paused. “He could stay that way, need be.”

“Don’t do it. _Please_. I don’t think I could handle it, if….”

When the words got lost to sobs, he squeezed her and kissed the top of her head. “We won’t. Just leave it up to me, yeah?”

Dawn didn’t know if she believed him. He didn’t have problem lying when it suited him. Neither of them did.

So when she saw them talking quietly, heads bent together, she didn’t really want to know what they were talking about. She didn’t want to know if he was breaking his promise.

She pushed it aside and tried her best to pretend she didn’t know…there was nothing she could do now, except hope that this time, Spike wasn’t lying.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Spike spent quite a few of his nights stalking the Slayer.

It was business, not pleasure, unfortunately. He’d given a promise to a girl. As sweet as it would be to tangle with this one—smart and resourceful and plucky as she was—he didn’t think Dawn could withstand her sister’s murder and keep her head. She had admirable moral flexibility for a human, but some things were too much to withstand. He’d loved Dru, but he valued Dawn’s sanity.

Maybe if they had been able to kill the Slayer and hie off before the girl had figured them out….

But it was too late for that. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to convince Angelus so much as misdirect him. He seemed to have lost interest anyway—Dawn was the obsession now. First breaking her, in a fashion. Now, keeping her. Protecting her. Eventually, Spike imagined, turning her and training her.

Spike was fairly satisfied that the little gang of do-gooders didn’t have any information on Glory he was missing. Nothing new, and nothing helpful. Only thing he _did_ find out was that Dawn’s mum, who had been sick, was starting to pull out of it.

Spike had decided a while back that if the mum kicked it, Dawn would never know. They would do what they needed to, and leave town before she had the chance to find out. Seemed that wouldn’t be necessary now.

Tonight, the plan was different. Angelus had put the screws to the local snitch, found out how they could get at Glory’s head minion. Crusty little bugger kept himself all tucked away in his posh little nest, ready to see to the whims of Her Highness. It meant he was in the place to give them the best information, but he was damn near impossible to get ahold of.

But that problem had been solved. Annoying little twit was all tied up, stashed in a warehouse across town. Spike had nabbed him last night.

Tonight he would stay in, with Dawn. Torture had always been Angelus’ pleasure and area of expertise.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to meretrix for being helpful on this chapter, as always. *HUGS*

“You’re joking.”

The moment of silence stretched between them in the shade of the porch. Spike watched Dawn as she lay in the sunshine, stretching and preening like the little tease she was, out of reach. When she came back to them, her skin would be warm with forbidden heat, and she would smell a treat.

Absolutely nothing smelled quite as lovely as a human’s sun-warmed skin. Especially not when it was wrapped around such a pretty package.

“No, I’m not joking at all. Apparently the Slayer and her friends already knew, but they forgot as soon as Ben was out of sight. Some kinda mojo.”

“Why do you remember being told, you reckon?”

Angelus shrugged, eyes on their prize. His body was relaxed, arm stretched across the back of the bench. The remote had long been abandoned inside. Dawn had no wish to run off now.

“Vampire, I guess. It doesn’t matter. I killed the messenger.”

“No loss there.”

Dawn rolled over and presented her ass with a smug grin. They both paused at the saucy display. Asking for it, really. And Angelus was sure to give it to her.

Most likely tonight, at this rate.

Spike finally cleared his throat. “So we kill the doctor, then.”

“Yeah. We kill the doctor. Soon. Find out everything about him. You do the recon, but I want to be the one.”

Spike snorted. Course he did. “Yeah, boss. Whatever you say, boss.”

A big hand cuffed the back of his head for his trouble.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You know, Dawn…nice girls don’t tease.”

It was dark.

Angelus doubted that the girl could see much, beyond shifting shadows and hints of form, and there was a retribution in that that he enjoyed.

She’d had her moment in the sun. Now they were, once again, playing on his terms.

She panted, body straining for stillness. He did hope she moved. Punishment would only make this whole experience that much more… _fun_.

“Good thing I’m not a nice girl then, huh, Daddy?”

The question cracked in the middle as his tongue circled her tight little hole, pushing through the sphincter till she froze and shuddered. She was completely unprepared for the crack of his palm against her ass.

“Sass. Don’t you have something better to be doing with that mouth? I think Spike must be feeling left out.”

Spike’s eyes met his. Glinting gold in the dim light of the room. “Just enjoyin’ the view, mate.”

“Mmmm.” Even so, Spike’s eyes rolled shut and he slumped against the headboard with a hiss as Dawn took him in. His fist curled into her hair as she sucked him, and Angelus caressed her thighs, bending her knees and bracing them under her hips so quickly that she tipped forward—choked and gave him a dirty look over her shoulder.

Angelus just smirked and pushed her knees further forward, opening her hips to him.

She always did make the prettiest sounds for him when he fingered her ass. He couldn’t wait to hear her cry for him when he fucked her.

By the time he twisted two fingers inside her, venturing a third, Spike’s cock had lost the girl’s attention and her head rested against his thigh, pressed desperately. Her throaty noises were made of pleasure, mostly, and her movements were eager.

But if he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend she was writhing away in agony.

Someday, he’d teach her just how blurry that line could be. When she was less…breakable. When she was one of his.

But for now the girl was human, however she’d begun and whatever she might later be, and he took care as he lined himself up, as he pressed forward, bearing down until his hips were flush to her ass. Her back was slick with sweat, and the walls convulsed around his cock.

She shifted underneath him, back flexing as she tried to seat him more comfortably, taking the slow, shallow thrusts with passivity that made his mouth water.

When Spike entered her from the front, she whimpered, a plaintiff little sound that evolved toward desperate, open-mouthed panting. Labored breathing, pleasure too close to pain.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dawn’s stomach was eating itself.

It was still dark when she awoke…probably no more than an hour after they’d fallen asleep. The bedroom was completely silent except for the sound of her own breathing.

Then her stomach gurgled loudly, feeling painfully hollow and crampy.

She startled a little when a hand settled on her belly, rubbing. Spike was awake—eyes teasing, smiling a small smile. “Best take care of that, yeah? Can’t have my girl wasting away.”

It was funny. He’d said that to her, that first horrible morning, trying to coax her out of her hiding place. She’d been a prisoner then, and she’d gone hungry rather than let him take care of her.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. Now she felt like one of them. Cherished, almost. Wedged between them, she felt warmed in a way that definitely wasn’t physical.

She was family, whatever that meant to them. Her heart squeezed at the realization.

And she was free to go where she chose. Mostly.

“I’ll go down and fix myself something.”

“Sure thing, pet.” He groped her playfully as she climbed over him and off the bed, watching intently as she picked one of Angelus’ shirts off the floor and covered herself. “Don’t be too long, yeah? Da doesn’t exactly keep my feet warm.” She giggled quietly as she left the room.

She picked her way down the stairs with care, feeling sore, tender from earlier, when they had…. She hadn’t even known that was _possible_ , but she definitely wouldn’t mind doing it again, now that she did.

Flipping on the fluorescent light in the kitchen, she hummed a little to herself. Pulled open the door to the fridge and stared at her choices, mind drifting distractedly to the bedroom when she should be thinking about cheese.

The air from the fridge drifted out in chilly tendrils, and she hugged Angelus’ shirt closer, fighting goosebumps. Her breasts ached from rough play. Not that the roughness had been _bad_ , exactly….

When Dawn heard the sobbing pleas, the happy glow fled her.  
She backtracked out of the kitchen…slowly down the hallway she never took, until she stood outside of the basement door. The only door she was absolutely, positively _never_ supposed to open.

Someone was crying, voice hoarse but still lifted to scream, and she could imagine that they would keep screaming until their throat bled raw.

Her heart froze.

There was really nothing to separate it from the thousand other times she had heard their desperate victims crying out for help.

Except this time, she recognized the voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA. *steeples fingers evilly*


	19. Chapter 19

It took her a while to figure out how to turn the lights on in the basement. Apparently they left people in the dark down here, and Dawn couldn’t decide if that was incredibly cruel, or one small mercy.

Watery light filtered from the door above, and she groped for the chain to the bare bulb.

The girl was hardly recognizable, tethered to a support beam, wrists raw from rope-burn. When the light snapped on, she flinched and cried out—having gone silent the moment Dawn opened the basement door.

Her clothing was in disarray. The wounds dappling her neck were crusted with blood, and a few were open, seeping.

Bile rose in Dawn’s throat.

“Janice….” She tried not to sob at the word. Janice’s eyes were dull, but she focused on Dawn and croaked out her name as she untied her wrists. Dawn’s hands were shaking.

“Dawn…. How did you find me? I thought you were dead....”

Dawn’s mind was racing. They needed to get out of here, fast. “Janice, listen to me. You have to do what I say, ok?”

She wasn't sure if she understood, but Janice couldn’t walk on her own. Couldn’t even _stand_ on her own, she was so weak with blood loss. Oh god. She was going to have to carry her out. It wasn't like she could stay, if they found out what she’d done. She wanted to cry. How could she let herself forget this was what they did? What they _were_.

Dawn hauled Janice to the top of the basement stairs and left her on the landing while she looked around. Not a sound. Thank god, they were probably asleep. If they got out of here quickly, she could get beyond the range of the collar….

“Janice. You with me?” Barely. She was barely conscious. “We have to leave as quickly as possible, but we have to be quiet until we get out of the house.”

Janice nodded listlessly.

There was no adrenaline surge propping Janice up. She was practically dead weight. Dawn realized sickly that they must have fed from her just before they…. Just before. Her stomach rolled, and she swallowed back the wave of acidic panic.

She managed to get them past the kitchen, through the living room and almost to the back entry before it all went to hell.

Their labored breathing covered the footfalls on the stairs. “Hey, pigeon, what’s taking so long? We got you those—”

Spike stepped into the living room naked, and everybody froze. He looked stunned for a moment, taking in the situation. They didn’t take their eyes off each other.

The body leaning against hers had stiffened at Spike’s entrance, and it looked like that adrenaline was finally kicking in. She hoped so. “Janice, run now.” She shoved her friend behind her towards the door, holding her ground as she heard her fumbling with the lock….

Dawn didn’t watch her go, because she was too preoccupied with the formidable, if naked, vampire advancing on her quickly. “What the sodding hell—”

It was the worst mistake he could have made, closing in on her to try to intimidate—Dawn drove her knee up hard into his balls, told him she was sorry as he dropped to the ground, and ran like hell.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fuck. That was going to bruise. Ohhh, bugger.

“ANGELUS!”

Bloody hell, he didn’t think he could get up, but unless he was mistaken…. Spike pulled himself up against the kitchen counter and snagged the remote to Dawn’s collar, hitting the button repeatedly in an effort to delay the girl until Angelus went after her.

Angelus skidded into the kitchen, buttoning his pants. “What?”

“Dawn did a runner with the girl in the basement—”

With a curse, Angelus was out the door.

Five minutes later he was back, carrying two limp bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh, yeah. the cliffhangers kind of keep coming from here on out.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should warn you that this chapter is very disturbing, for a variety of reasons I can't elucidate without giving spoilers. it's one of my favorite chapters in the series...I think...maybe because Angelus' reaction in this chapter really rings true to me. plus, his little speech is one of the most happily gruesome things I've ever written, and I'm really proud of it.
> 
> I imagine most of you weren't expecting sunshine and kittens after Dawn's escape attempt, but I thought I should give you an extra heads-up. demons being demons, that's what I promised.

Angelus watched Dawn stir awake. She came to as she always did, at first—with sweet sounds that made his dick twitch, and a little smile on her face. But then things started coming back to her, and her heart sped—and for a moment, she smelled like terror as she realized she was tied down to the bed, arms spread wide.

Good. There was really no underestimating his wrath at their current situation.

He’d given her a little leeway, a little bit of trust, because she’d been such a good pet. And the moment he did, she was freeing the food and from the looks of it, doing a runner herself. He wasn’t amused.

“Angelus,” she began in her best daddy’s-little-girl voice.

Lying bitch.

“Welcome back, Dawnie. I was just trying to decide exactly what I wanted to do with you. Or I should say, to you, since you don’t have any say and you’re not going anywhere for a very long time.”

Dawn got a little paler. “I can explain.” He sat back, unimpressed. “Angelus, I know that girl. She was my best friend—I couldn’t just…. _Please_ let her go. Please.” Her eyes glistened. “I’ll be good for you.”

Angelus refrained from pointing out that she’d be that anyway, because this wasn’t a negotiation. He’d spoiled her, and now she had to be reminded who was in charge here.

“Have you ever skinned anything, Dawn?”

Her mouth snapped shut. Eyes stretched wide. Her face was so bloodless, it was gray. He took that as a no.

She flinched when he touched her. Ran a light finger in a half-circle around the base of her neck, and down her bare midline, between her breasts. When he reached soft curls of hair, he redirected, veering down her leg to encircle a slender ankle.  
  
"I've skinned a lot of men—when you live 250 years, you do most things a few times. This I do because I enjoy it though." Blue eyes looked back at him, wounded and mistrustful. "The most unexpected thing about it, the first time you skin someone, is how easy it is. It's kind of like taking off a really tight shirt. If you do it right, you can get the whole thing off in one big piece." He traced down her other leg. "But first you have to make the seams. Best if you use a razor or a scalpel, if you want to preserve the muscle beneath. Can't cut too deep. If you leave the muscle intact, you can peel the skin right off with your bare hands. Especially if the person is young and lean." Angelus' fingers glossed across her soft, flat belly. "The trickiest thing is the limbs."  
  
Angelus held her eyes as he moved up to trace one arm of a T across her chest from his imaginary midline incision. She was trembling now. "I find it works best if you make a little sleeve, slit down the inside." Dawn gave a full-body shudder as his finger softly sliced the velvety inner skin of her arm, drawing a ring around her wrist. Her heart was beating fast like a little bird's. He picked up her hand and caressed it aimlessly. His voice was so soft, and mild. "You can do the hands and feet, too, but those take a little more work—like turning a glove inside out, but the skin doesn’t really want to come off. So you save those for last, because just when you think they're insensible to the pain, that'll make em _squeal_. Gotta leave the face alone--it's more fun that way. People make the damndest expressions when they’re being tortured."  
  
He was silent for the space of half a dozen rapid, shallow breaths. The stench of fear was strong. He reached up and brushed gentle knuckles against her cheek, ignoring the way that she flinched. "It's messy, though. Blood _everywhere_ , and what a waste. That's why I save it for when someone has _really_ pissed me off."  
  
He watched her fight off a wave of nausea.

“It’s a good thing for you that your skin pleases me right where it is. I don’t fuck raw piles of meat. Spread for me, Dawnie.”

When her obedience wasn’t forthcoming, Angelus rolled her legs up against her chest himself. His face was impassive as he played with her clit. Watching her eyes fill up with tears even as her body supplied him with lubrication. He felt another wave of anger at her for things changing this way. Stupid bitch. She’d had it so good. Didn’t he buy her things? Let her go outside? Make her come? Let her _talk back to him_ and defy some of his orders? She had no concept of the kind of freedom he’d given her.

She’d get the picture pretty quickly, though, because now he’d treat her just as he should have in the first place.

He fucked her harshly, pants not even all the way off his ass—gave her just enough stimulation to keep her wet, because a dry fuck was no good and if he made her bleed it would interrupt his service. His mouth sure as hell wasn’t going near this cunt any time soon. She cried the whole time, but at least she was silent about it. He bled her from the neck as he came, feeling the rush of power that always came from drinking her.

This is how it should have been. Fucking and food.

When he was done with her, he let her free to use the bathroom. She didn’t really struggle when he locked one hand back to the bed.

She was in shock.

He decided to do her the one small mercy of leaving the other arm free, so she could sleep as she liked. Even now, he was softer on her than he should have been.

“Hey—” Angelus bore down on the free arm to get her attention, hard enough to leave marks tomorrow. Her eyes, dull with crying, drifted to his. He clenched his jaw against the unnatural emotion that welled up. “If you use this to fight me when I come back tomorrow, I’ll break it.”

Dawn looked away. He was about to leave her when she spoke.

“Please don’t kill Janice.”

Angelus rounded on her, incredulous. “You’re making _demands_ now.”

She was the picture of misery, but at least she was smart enough to avoid his eyes. “I just…please. Please, let her go.”

He scoffed. “We both know _that’s_ not happening.”

“Okay. Then just…don’t hurt her. It’s the only thing I’m asking.”

Angelus stared at her for a long time. The nerve of this little thing. He felt….

“Fine,” he said finally. “I suppose all whores get payment. She’ll be yours.”

The wave of hurt was a tangible thing. Good. She deserved it, for trying to leave him. “And you’ll feed her?”

Christ, she had balls. “I’ll split your portions in half. Damned if I’m buying more human food for the livestock. You whine about being hungry, I’ll snap her neck.”

Boiling over with rage, he strode out of the room and slammed the door behind him, before she asked to be named the Duchess of York and forced him to wring her little neck.


	21. Chapter 21

Spike smelled the wave of fear and the jolt of a human heartbeat when the door to the bedroom clicked closed behind him. It was ironic, in the end, that Angelus had ceded the master bedroom to Dawn in her punishment. He was bunking in the room Spike had used during _his_ previous exile.

Spike would have found that very telling, even if his sire hadn’t come sulking into the room smelling of Dawn…refusing to be touched as he rolled over and fell asleep like a grumpy, hibernating grizzly.

Tosser was tied up in knots over this slip of a girl, though he’d probably rather stake himself than admit it.

“’Salright, pigeon, it’s just me,” Spike called out softly, though the fear and sorrow-scent didn’t stop, and he hadn’t really expected it to.

The girl had good instincts, after all. Spike had been as furious as Angelus over what Dawn had nearly done, but his mad was gone now. Well, not gone. Dampered and tuckered out by the four hours he’d spent trolling for a fight, and finding several. He’d left the mansion needing a good brawl…and he hadn’t particularly wanted to listen to whatever torture Angelus was going to visit on the girl.

For some reason, he just didn’t have a taste for it. Not now…not for her.

Imagine his surprise when he arrived home in the pre-dawn hours to find his sire brooding instead of glowing with good humor that always came after a good round with knives and whips. Come to find out, Angelus was softer for this sweet plum than he’d let on.

Not that Spike was going to give him hell about it, because he liked all of his bits attached. There would be enough time for teasing later, when all this had blown over.

As he approached the bed, Spike could see that Dawn was naked. She smelled of despair and semen and a hint of residual arousal, and he’d barely caught a glimpse of her flesh, really, before she yanked a sheet over her body.

He was shocked to see that she had a free hand. It was one of the reasons he’d come to check on her, though he’d have been in the shithouse with Angelus if he’d freed it for her.

He sat on the edge of the bed. She rolled her back to him, and hunched in on herself. When he slid under the covers a long, silent moment later, it was a wave of sadness that passed over him, not fear. She stiffened when he curled himself around her back, then relaxed.

Interesting. He wrapped an arm around her waist and soaked in the warmth of her body, waiting her out.

“You’re dressed,” she said finally. Her voice was a bit watery.

His eyebrow twitched at that statement of the obvious. “Well…yeah.”

“I thought….” She wavered. “I thought you were just here to…. Since now, I’m….”

Ah. Judging by the bitterness in her tone, Angelus had reverted to ‘whore.’ That explained a thing or two. Spike rolled his eyes at how bloody predictable that was.

“No, just wanted to see my girl,” he said evenly.

“Aren’t you mad?”

“Bloody furious.” Spike appreciated the way she tensed in his arms. “But I’m also tired. Wanted a snuggle.”

She snorted a brief giggle over the word. “Big Bad. I guess you really are the unpredictable one.”

Spike couldn’t help but smile at that, pleased with the assessment. He was, was he? “And Angelus is Old Faithful?”

“Well…yeah. I always knew if I did something bad, he’d be this angry.” Spike thought about correcting her on the severity of the punishment, but it was best for her health, really, if she didn’t realize that Angelus was still holding back.

Best she act cowed and not provoke him.

Dawn’s stomach growled. Spike’s hand spread out over the loud, pulsing rumble of her upper abdomen, wishing he knew whether or not the girl was allowed to be fed, so he could take care of this right now. She’d obviously not been fed yet, so perhaps it was by design. Sure as hell wouldn’t do to wake Angelus and ask. Spike let his hand shift lower, ignoring the way Dawn tensed as he began to knead the muscle over her womb.

“Are you hurt?” he asked quietly. He didn’t smell blood anywhere on her.

Dawn’s “no!” was more of a sob than anything, and then her body seized and locked up as he smelled salt. She cried silently, and Spike sighed, wrapping her up tighter. Never could stand Drusilla’s tears either. He was usually cleaning up Angelus’ messes then, as well.

He’d been with the wanker too long to even resent it anymore. Much. Angelus was what he was.

A big fucking wanker.

There was an old folk song that Spike used to sing to Dru when she had one of her spells, something his own mum used to sing to him. All he had to do was begin to croon it in her ear and the tears would switch off, until she was singing and giggling and dancing around the room.

Didn’t work that way with Dawn, of course, who was in full possession of her faculties. But she quieted a little.

But when the song drew to a close with the sort of morbid platitude popular back in his day—“How could you use a poor maiden so?”—she burst into tears all over again…this time, even more vocally.

Spike drew in a long breath and huffed it out, running short on patience but not wanting to lose his with her.

_Someone_ needed to be soft with the girl, or they’d lose her.

“C’mon. C’mon, lamb, roll over. There’s a girl.” He rolled onto his back and tucked her sniveling, sobbing body against his own, under his arm, and after a moment’s hesitation she wrapped her limbs around him, clinging as she cried. The angle of her tethered arm was awkward, but it couldn’t be helped.

Spike closed his eyes and concentrated on a contented feeling, despite the fact that her fit was grating on him. After a moment it paid off, and a steady, thrumming vibration began in his chest, building until the purr was an audible, palpable thing.

Gradually, Dawn’s tears slowed, the occasional shudder of despair growing less and less frequent as she calmed to the familiar sensation. It had to be comforting to the girl by now, often as she’d felt it after sex, before sleep. His hand stroked through her hair as her body relaxed over time. Eventually he felt her biological rhythms settle into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Spike let the vibration ebb slowly so as not to wake her with a sudden change, and eased her body away from his own so he could extract himself from the bed. He stood for a moment studying her troubled face, brushing the hair back from her cheek and pulling the covers higher because the room was a bit chilly. He’d have to go turn up the heat. He felt an odd twinge as he watched at her frown in sleep.

He brushed it aside.

Slipped back into the hall, bound for Angelus’ bed, where he was expected.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dawn would have thought that the worst thing about being made to feel like a whore would be the sex. The violation of her body, no matter how painless. No matter that Angelus gave her a little physical pleasure when he fucked her.

It was horrifying. But to say it was the _worst_ thing…she’d have been wrong.

The worst thing was the way he wouldn’t look at her anymore. The way he wouldn’t _see_ her. The way he only undressed as much as he had to, and only touched the parts of her necessary to get the job done. The way he didn’t talk to her or smile at her…laugh…kiss…tease or demand. He just…put his dick in her like she was a coin-operated machine, and left.

Like she wasn’t a person.

Her body was already his. Fuck, she hated that she hadn’t stopped wanting him. What was wrong with her? The only thing that hurt was the fact that he was so cold.

A week went by, and then two. Spike came to see her…brought her meager amount of food twice a day. He never touched her sexually—she didn’t know if he was forbidden, or if he didn’t want to, or if he thought it was unwelcome, but…he just didn’t. Which was fine because she was mostly a snotty mess when he arrived anyway.

Time passed, and somehow it got easier. It shouldn’t have. She should have hated them both. She should have been bitter. Instead, she felt desperate. She felt dumped. There was an empty, lonely place inside where her old life had been, and it wasn’t really going away, but it was getting less…sharp.

She didn’t cry anymore. Much.

She and Spike joked around. He seemed mostly over the fact that she had tried to leave, and sometimes during the day he unchained her from the bed and let her wander around for exercise, even if she never got clothes. He played with her, tickling or chasing…Dawn didn’t know if the free time was sanctioned or not, but she was sure the games were not.

It didn’t escape Dawn that her remote control was always on hand now whenever she wasn’t fastened to the headboard—on her trips to the bathroom, or her ‘walks.’ The meaning of that wasn’t beyond her either.

She wasn’t trusted any more.

Was it completely fucked that she felt guilty? Probably. She probably needed a boatload of therapy for that thing people get where they fall in love with their serial killer kidnappers, but mostly she just felt really shitty. Because they had trusted her, and she’d been happy—they all had, she thought—and she had hurt them.

She was sure if she asked, either of them would feed her some crap about the superiority of vampires to humans and how she should have been treated like dirt from the very beginning and blah blah blah, but she was pretty sure this was some weird macho demon reaction to feeling betrayed.

It had taken her a while to work that one out, and once she had, she didn’t know whether that made things better or worse. But she did know one thing—and this was the tip-off—Angelus hadn’t hurt her. At all. Not even a spanking, although she kind of got that that had always been more for revving their engines than any kind of punishment.

She’d always been sure that if she’d ever really pissed Angelus off, she’d be carved to pieces…possibly literally. But he hadn’t laid a wrong hand on her.

Ok, well, fucking her in that horrible, detached way qualified as laying a wrong hand on her. She’d seen all the after-school specials. But even then, he never hurt her. Not even discomfort. And yeah, her food portions were a little skinny, but at least she knew Janice was getting fed elsewhere…she hoped. She had no idea why she trusted him to keep his word, she just…did. And if he’d broken it, there wasn’t anything she could really do. So she had lost a little weight—and it wasn’t as if she’d ever needed to be _more_ of a beanpole—but they weren’t starving her. Not like she was burning that many calories anyway, laying here all the time.

Every day, he described to her in vivid detail what he wanted to do to her for trying to leave them. Really gruesome, disturbing things. Though actually, he never even said they were things he wanted to do to _her_ …talked about them like they were things he’d done elsewhere, to someone else. Which she had no doubt he had…at some point.

She hoped not recently, on her behalf.

But he’d never acted out a single one. Or even showed up with a single one of the tools of torture he described to her.

She knew it wasn’t normal, and she sure as hell knew it wasn’t normal to be grateful, but her life wasn’t normal. She’d left normal a few towns back. And she knew that even this kind of punishment would be atrocious, served up from anyone else. Abusive and insane and cruel. And maybe, probably, it was all those things…who even knew anymore. But for him….

For Angelus, Dawn was positive this was mercy. Which had to mean something.


	22. Chapter 22

“You’re going to cause the girl _permanent damage_. Quit being such a stubborn arse.”

Angelus frowned like the mule he was. “So what? Maybe she deserves a little scarring.”

“That’s not what you’ll be saying six months from now when your mad is a distant memory and her body’s all sickly with malnourishment and her hide is all marked up with rough use. I’m the one will have to listen to you whinging.”

“I don’t whinge. And I’m not some silly woman in a snit, William. She was going to run away. And never come back. After all we’ve done for her! All we’ve done to keep her safe. I thought she was happy.”

Oh, yeah, his sire was the Big Bad alright. Privately, Spike rolled his eyes. Moody, sentimental Irishman. But no less dangerous for it—in fact, moreso—and if Dawn didn’t start getting adequate nutrition, she’d be ill before long.

“Of course, you’re fully justified. Not sayin’ you should let the girl off easy. Just…you’ve lost your head is all….” At the murderous look, he backpeddled. The prat was softer than he looked, but Spike would hate to be on the receiving end of his wrath just now… _especially_ since he was being so restrained with the girl. Spike didn’t fancy being the whipping boy just now. “I just mean you’re not usin’ that big brain of yours like you do best, is all. Caught us both off guard, getting betrayed like that.”

His sire looked somewhat appeased, expression settling back into a scowl. Only one way put him in a better frame of mind, really. Spike took Angelus’ whiskey and put it aside before climbing astride him on sofa.

“Look, pet,” he murmured, nuzzling, deliberately submissive, into the other vampire’s neck. The big body beneath his own began to uncoil. “She was happy, yeah? Thought the sun rose and set with you, she did. Still does. But you and I both know they don’t let go of human ties that way. Stubborn little blighters. So she can’t be blamed, can she? Just responding to her instincts. And the fact that she was making a break for it as well…well, that’s just a sign of respect in a way, innit? Knew you’d be displeased with her for springing one of the munchies, and she feared your authority. Smart girl.”

“I can blame her, and I do,” Angelus grumbled, but his tone was a shade less immoveable.

Spike doubted his tactic was escaping Angelus’ notice, but it was a mix of flattery and logic that he knew his sire couldn’t resist. He had relaxed somewhat, one hand resting affectionately between Spike’s shoulder blades, the other slipping under the waistband of his jeans to stroke around the hole he’d find was greased and ready—this being a premeditated seduction. Spike licked at his sire’s throat and purred, arching his bum up into the finger idly working in and out of his arse. He cooperated fully when the other vampire stripped away his pants.

“Whore,” Angelus said affectionately.

“Mmmhhhmmmm. What are you going to give me for services rendered?”

Angelus sighed and laughed with exasperation, giving his cheek a hearty smack before returning to his foreplay. “Fine. Dawn can go back to proper meals.”

He was sure Angelus felt his smug grin, but he had the good graces to hide it as he unbuckled his sire’s fly, shifted his hips, and drove himself down hard onto his cock. After that, he was sure the poof didn’t care what he was smiling about, as long as he kept bouncing on his dick.

“And the girl in the basement as well. Nibblet won’t eat if she thinks her friend is being deprived.”

“Christ…fine, yes, whatever. Must not be doing this right if you’re still talking.”

And then Angelus began to really fuck him, in the way only he could. Split him open and made him delirious to anything but guttural, hoarse shouts of pleasure. Christ, he loved that cock. Worship. Was it any wonder he put up with all his shite, when Angelus regularly stuffed him full and made him forget himself, fucked him like it was vengeance when they both knew it was home and affection and loyalty.

Angelus lunged up at the last moment to wrap Spike up with thick arms, fangs sinking in as he ground him down into his lap, coming in thick spurts as he twitched up into him. They were pressed together tightly when Spike shuddered to completion, sated and weak with blood loss.

Angelus lapped at the blood seeping from the wound in his throat as they slumped together against the back of the sofa. They weren’t snuggling, they were just…very very tired. From all the sex. Manly, visceral sex. Couldn’t be helped, really.

“I have to go out tonight on business.”

Spike slid off Angelus’ lap onto the sofa beside him, because hell if he’d have a serious conversation with the wanker while he was on top of him. ‘On business.’ These days that meant only one thing: Glory. How to stop her and how to protect Dawn.

And tonight, that meant killing Ben.

“Do you want backup?”

Killing one man was nothing, but if Glory caught wind of them and she came running…Angelus would be in trouble.

“No, I’ll take care of it. You stay here with Dawn.”

Spike refrained from asking if he was sure. Insulting to both of them, really.

But as Angelus walked out the door he couldn’t resist…all those times coming up that Angelus had played Father Knows Best. “Be back before sunrise, Liam.”

The bird was flipped back over a broad shoulder. “Fuck off.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

In the end, it wasn’t difficult to kill the boy. To charm the nurses and slip quietly into the break room and snap the good doctor’s neck while he slept off the exhaustion of a 27-hour shift. Angelus didn’t hesitate. Why would he? Although he did smile over the irony that the boy had no doubt fallen into the bunk with safety in mind…too bleary without a nap to safely make the drive home.

It was a little more complicated getting the boy _out_ of the hospital, but dead bodies were a dime a dozen around here, as long as they didn’t see the face. God knew he’d seen the old ‘hide-it-on-a-gurney’ gag enough times in the horrible movies Spike made him watch. Once in a private hall, he’d thrown the cooling body over his shoulder and walked out.

He left Ben’s limp form on the slayer’s doorstep with a note pinned on his chest. It read _Ben = Glory. World saved. You’re welcome._

Maybe the stupid bitch would be able to hold on to the thought now that the god was dead and she had the hard proof in front of her. Maybe not. He didn’t care…Dawn was safe now. Or as safe as she would ever be. She would only come to harm at _his_ hands.

But the last thing he did before daybreak was kill every last one of Glory’s wrinkly little minions, just in case.

Mass slaughter resolved most problems permanently, he found.

He strolled home as the sky began to lighten from blue to peach with the coming day, working out what came next. Only one thing really came to mind.

Things had to change between he and Dawn. He was deeply displeased that their interactions were so strained. The girl’s health aside, tormenting her carried no pleasure. She had more of an influence on his behavior than he liked. It was unnatural. By the time he arrived home, he’d made a decision on how to solve the matter.

Janice would be dead before sun-up.


	23. Chapter 23

Angelus and Spike stared down at the girl’s cold and awkwardly mangled body, not speaking. She lay at the foot of the stairs of the basement, limbs askew, neck broken…eyes open in a wide frozen expression of surprise. Spike had found her this morning when he came to deliver her small rations. He knew Dawn believed she and Janice split the human food 50-50, but Dawn actually got the heftier portion.

But they had kept their word and fed Dawn’s little friend enough to keep her alive. Didn’t touch a hair on her annoying little head. Spike had been shocked that Angelus had agreed to such a thing in the first place…and more shocked that he’d carried through with it.

But that was love for you. His sire could be such a poofter at times.

He had no idea how she’d managed to get loose from her bonds, but he figured she’d been too weak for the mad dash she attempted up the stairs. There were marks on the rail from where she had clutched as she tipped backwards dizzily before plummeting in a helpless tumble back to the basement floor.

Their shocked silence sure as bloody hell wasn’t for this twit—they had killed a thousand just like her, and they would kill a thousand more. But Dawn….

“We have to tell her,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “Eventually she’ll—”

“I know.” Angelus was brooding properly now. He’d been on the verge of granting the Bit her freedom again…making up and making nice…and this ruined all his grandiose imaginings of effusive gratitude on her part.

This Janice twit was nothing but trouble, alive or dead. Had he known, he’d have snapped her neck when she came onto him at the Bronze.

Spike hesitated. “I can—”

“No,” Angelus sighed. “I’ll do it.”

“…Now?”

“Might as well.”

Angelus turned and trudged up the stairs, and Spike reckoned there was going to be a proper steam-letting massacre later tonight in Sunnydale. So much for his sire’s good mood over their victory.

~*~*~*~*~

He entered the room quietly and unlocked the handcuffs tethering her to the bed.

Angelus never released her until after he fucked her.

Her confusion grew when he sat on the edge of the bed without a word. And when he pulled a t-shirt over her head for modesty and gently pulled her arms through the sleeves as if she were a small child, she had no earthly idea what could be going on. She hadn’t been allowed clothing in too long to remember.

Except that maybe today was the day that he forgave her. Dawn tried not to let the nervous flutter of hope grow too big. But it was hard not to be excited when he settled back against the headboard and pulled her into his lap.

He hadn’t touched her this way in so long. She felt her throat constrict at the bit of sweetness.

But the strangeness of his demeanor struck her just before he spoke.

“Janice is dead.”

Abrupt Angelus at his finest. Dawn stared at him a moment before the sentence locked into place. She sat up, pulling away from him as she did. “…What?”

“Janice is dead, Dawn.”

She didn’t know which emotion to grasp onto. Confusion, pain, grief, anger. Betrayal. Was this revenge for her own? “You promised!”

“I did—”

“You promised me you wouldn’t hurt her!”

When she tried to struggle off his lap, he wouldn’t let her, and the embrace was more like restraint now than a hug—her back pressed flat to his chest, arms banding her against him while she struggled. But her arms were trapped, and eventually she gave up.

“It was an accident.”

“An…accident?” She knew her voice was hysterical and teary, but she didn’t care. “An ACCIDENT? What, did you _accidentally_ get too hungry and drain her dry? Or was it Spike? When you said you wouldn’t hurt her, I thought that meant you’d stop—”

“Shut up.” His arm tightened around her chest until she didn’t have the breath to go on. She struggled not to cry, feeling that panicked hysteria rising…. “We respected your wishes, Dawn. We didn’t have to, but we did. We haven’t touched the girl since the night I told you we wouldn’t, except for basic care. She got free somehow last night, and when she tried to run up the stairs to escape, she fell. She broke her neck. Spike found her this morning.”

She must have been so scared. To think she might be able to get away, and then to realize, in that horrible moment as she fell…. She had been so scared, and all alone. Suddenly Dawn couldn’t hold back the tears any more and they burst from her. Like they were ripping a hole in her belly on the way out. It hurt so bad. She’d tried to save her….

When Dawn’s body was turned towards another larger one, she didn’t think—she just latched on and clung, burying her face against a familiar scent while she sobbed her grief. She was held. Petted. He was saying something, but she couldn’t focus, too overcome with the gut-turning pain of the fresh wave of realization. Janice was dead. Dawn had known death her whole life, because of Buffy…because of what she knew. But this was different…personal. This was her fault. It felt like her fault.

She didn’t know how long she cried. Her head hurt and she felt worse when she was done than when she started, but eventually her body just couldn’t cry anymore. She couldn’t breathe from all the snot, and her brain hurt and her mouth was dry. She just hurt all over, and as she wound down, she became increasingly aware of Angelus. Of the fact that she had been crying all over him, and he was still rubbing her with soothing hands.

She didn’t even have the energy to think about how weird that was. She didn’t have the energy to be mad at him. She didn’t have the energy for anything.

After she’d sniffled out the last of her tears, Angelus leaned away and brushed her hair back from her face. He looked really…uncomfortable, she realized distantly. Like he was constipated or something. She choked back a hysterical laugh.

“I know…I know that this girl was. Important to you. I know it..hurts. Humans never expect—” Angelus seemed to think better of the one sentence that didn’t feel awkward to him, so she figured he had been about to say something stupid. “It hurts you. I don’t like it.”

Dawn blinked at him, not sure what she was supposed to say to that. …Sorry? Sorry my grief offends you? Of course he didn’t say that he understood. Of course he didn’t say he was sorry. His expression was a cross between wariness and concern, and Dawn decided that the former emotion was the necessary one.

“This is all your fault,” she said quietly.

His eyes rounded in disbelief. “This is all… _my fault_!? Do you have any idea how grateful you should be?”

Dawn saw red. Grateful. GRATEFUL? Was he joking??

The moment she opened her mouth to tell him off was the moment that Buffy burst into the room.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, so. I was hoping sommmebody would pick up on the very careful wording of the janice-will-die cliffhanger, but apparently I'm not that clever :-/


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which I update again quickly, but am still evil and meen, zomg.

Dawn’s sister had to have the worst timing ever.

Dawn wasn’t entirely clear on why they hadn’t tried to use the locator spell on her six months ago, but _whatever_. Now here she was with her floaty ball of locating light and her crossbow and two men who sized up Dawn’s state of half-dress pretty quickly and averted their eyes, blushing three shades of red. Giles and Xander glared at Angelus instead of risking a glance at her near-nudity.

And ok, maybe Buffy’s timing didn’t completely suck after all, because just now, Dawn _really_ wanted to go home. Wanted to go home so badly it hurt.

But she still didn’t like that Buffy had a weapon pointed at her ~~boyfriend’s~~ very stupid vampire’s heart.

“Dawn,” Buffy said finally, voice all…tense and badass and me Slayer you vampire, let go or you’re dust. Her eyes were on Angelus. “Get over here.”

“No.” Angelus’ arm tightened around her waist, and Dawn sighed, because this wasn’t going to be pretty.

“ _I’m_ sorry, I don’t think I asked you. Dawn, get out of his lap.”

She was tired and cranky and irritable with everyone, especially when she shoved at Angelus and he didn’t budge. But it was Buffy that she snapped at. “Okay, sorry I didn’t think of that before, with this vampire holding onto me like I’m the last pint of virgin blood. Let me stop dicking around and get up now.”

“It won’t be a problem how hard he’s holding on to you when I dust him,” Buffy said pointedly.

Angelus growled and tugged Dawn closer.

Dawn didn’t even try to struggle. “Let go of me—Buffy, don’t stake him—Stop being a stubborn ass, and let go of me.”

“You’re staying here.”

“You know, it really looks like I’m not. It really looks like I’m either leaving here with you in one piece, or leaving here shaking dust off my clothes. You got caught with your pants down, them’s the breaks.”

Giles coughed uncomfortably at the mention of pants being down, metaphorically. Since she wasn’t wearing any. Or underwear, for that matter.

Angelus looked pissed, but she was right, so he loosened his hold on her. “I’m just going to come for you. This is pointless.”

“Big piles of dust aren’t much with the vendetta,” Buffy retorted.

“God, would everybody just… _stop_! You—” she poked Angelus “are not moving until we’re gone. And you—” she narrowed her eyes at Buffy “are not staking anyone.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you want me, and you’ve got me. I just want to go home. Please?” The lost, pleading quality of her voice was only half-faked.

Buffy’s aggressive stance loosened, lips pressing together. “Fine. Put some pants on.”

Dawn blushed and nodded, slipping off the bed. Angelus didn’t try to stop her. Before she turned to the dresser, she reminded the two of them—“No moving. No staking.”—and before you could say ‘awkward,’ she was all decent again.

Dawn didn’t have to look back as she left the room to know that Angelus was furious. So she didn’t bother.

And when they were safely out in the sunshine and Buffy pulled her into her arms and slowly fell apart, bawling—Buffy, the strongest living person she knew, crying and clinging to her that way—Dawn managed to squeeze out a few tears of her own.

Even though she wasn’t really sure what she was crying for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> avoid buffy-bashing in comments? kthanxbye. *squish*


	25. Chapter 25

When Dawn got home, things were…weird. Insane. Well, they were normal, mostly, but it felt insane. Everyone couldn’t stop touching her. They hovered around her, constantly in orbit. Buffy couldn’t stop touching her hair, and Dawn swore she was trying to share her chair, she sat so close. Mom kept squeezing her till her lungs collapsed and calling her pumpkin-butt, which was embarrassing but a small problem in the scheme of things. Xander was jokey, Willow made with the resolve-face, Giles hovered on the periphery and looked paternal. Tara seemed to be the only one willing to give her room to breathe, but she gave her sympathetic looks when she seemed to understand how overwhelmed Dawn was.

Dawn guessed if she’d ever had doubts that they loved her…that solved that mystery.

It was exhausting.

They wouldn’t even let her alone in sleep. Which…maybe she didn’t want to be. She woke up in the early morning hours tucked between Buffy and her mother in her mom’s big bed, crying. They didn’t wake up, but their warmth was comforting. If a little odd. She felt overheated now that she wasn’t the only warm-blooded person in the bed.

The next day they dropped the big bombshell. It was on accident…Xander said something stupid, and then something _more_ stupid, and then everyone glared at him and when Dawn asked ‘What?’ for the tenth time, they finally fessed up.

She hadn’t thought her life could get any weirder…any more mind-blowing…but that was before they told her: We were going to wait for a better time, but you’re actually a mystical ball of energy, all your memories until last year were created by monks, and the only reason you didn’t bring the world to an agonizing and horrific end is because nobody knew where you were.

Oh. Well…that explained what took them so long.

They’d been searching for her the old fashioned way when this Glory chick came into town looking for a key. Willow did a spell to find it, and Buffy said everything that contained traces of Dawn in the house went wonky…that’s when they knew the key was _her_ , though they didn’t understand at first. And then they had just assumed that Dawn was missing because Glory had her.

By the time they realized Glory didn’t know where—or what—the Key was, they had all decided Dawn was maybe safer missing. Certainly no _more_ in danger. This Glory chick was bad news, apparently. She had pulverized Buffy more than once. And maybe they were safer in their ignorance of her whereabouts, too—she could…suck brains, or something.

So as much as it sucked (ha) to worry about her, they left her missing until they could find a way to kill Glory…which took a lot longer than anyone expected, and actually, _they_ hadn’t done anything. This morning a dead man showed up on the Summers’ doorstep, and somehow that meant Glory was gone.

It was all very confusing, but…not all that important, now.

Anyway, once Glory was gone, it was pretty simple. Locator spell, rescue mission, bing-bang-boom, Dawn was back at home, safe and happy and where she belonged.

Safe, anyway.

They all looked at her like she should be having an existential crisis or something. Dawn was pretty sure that when she took it in stride, they all thought she was in shock. Which she probably was, but….

It’s not like all this really changed anything. She was alive, she was still Dawn. Way weird that she wasn’t born so much as… _made_ , but this was the Hellmouth and with the way Buffy was clinging to her like a monkey, she didn’t have any doubt that she was wanted. Loved.

She was real. She bled. _That_ she knew for sure. There were two very keen witnesses. She wondered if she tasted better than most people—made of Slayer—and if that’s why the guys were all weird about it when they drank from her. Not that it really mattered anymore.

Anyway, Dawn was all crisised out. Her extended family looked at her doubtfully when she said she just wanted to have some rest alone, but nobody followed her up the stairs.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Spike was going to get his hide stripped when he went home. About that, he had no doubt.

Angelus had been a raving lunatic since the Slayer came and took her sis. Prowled around her house all night against Spike’s better judgment, and tried to charm his way into an invite from Dawn’s mum…as if she wouldn’t be in the loop on what was going on. That lot seemed to stick together.

So Spike had taken matters in his own hands tonight, and chained the old git up while he was sleeping like…well…the dead. Spike heard him bellowing all the way down the driveway, but there was nothing the piker could do until he got home to let him loose…which was not something he was looking forward to, he had to admit.

He knew Dawn took note when he launched himself onto the roof and settled to have a cigarette by her bedroom window, but she didn’t move from her supine position on the bed in the dark. The window was open, not that it did him a lick of good.

“Go away.”

“Ah. She speaks. O speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious as the bloody night.”

“Keep quoting Shakespeare like that and I’m going to tell on you. You’ll get your official badass vampire card taken away.”

“Public school system in this country’s not as crap as I thought.” He took a drag and lay his head back against the siding. He smirked. “Badass vamp, eh? Officially?”

“Don’t get all big-headed about it. I thought I told you to go away.”

He bided his time with his smoke. “Will, if you come out of there and go away with me.”

Spike couldn’t help but smile when she snorted. Such a lady, his Bit. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s only a matter of time, you know. I’m being reasonable compared to Angelus. You don’t really want to bring him on your family, pet.”

“Where is he, anyway.”

Spike smiled out towards the dark street, at the curiosity in her voice and the image of the poof, all trussed up and shouting. “I chained him up and left him at home.”

He picked up on the sounds of Dawn slipping out of bed and creeping closer to sit at the window. “You did _not_.”

He turned his head and grinned at her, noting that all her fingers and toes remained carefully inside the house. Pity. “Did, too. Should have heard the things he said.”

When she burst into a sweet, surprised giggle, of course it was contagious. He winked at her as he blew smoke away from her face. “You’re going to be in so much trouble later.”

Spike shrugged. “Yeah. But it’s worth it, if I can make you see reason.” When he looked over his shoulder at her, she was watching him with regretful puppy eyes. “Except that’s not going to happen, is it, kitten?”

She shook her head.

“He won’t give up, you know. He can drag this out forever. You have to come outside sometime.”

“Not at night, I don’t.”

He gawked at her. “For the rest of your life.”

Dawn shrugged, looking away, head tucked onto her knees. “If I have to.”

Spike didn’t think she really understood what that meant, young as she was. But he tried another tack. “Not so for big sis. For all your friends. Your mum. Christ help any boy you try to date. I’m telling you, pet, it won’t matter to him who he has to go through to get to you. He’ll do it.”

She held his eyes, chin hitching stubbornly. “Not if he wants me. You tell him he starts playing that game, he’ll _never_ get me. Not the way that he wants. Not willingly.”

Spike felt his own possessive rage surface. “You can’t just give yourself to us, and then walk away, luv. It doesn’t work like that, and if you think it does, you’re—”

“You have to leave town.”

“The bloody hell we will! Who do you think you’re dealing with?”

“Buffy’s going to come after you. As soon as she feels like she can leave me alone. She’s going to go back to the mansion to stake you both.”

Spike scoffed, irritated. “Please. Only reason she took you so easy is because Angelus was…distracted. And I was asleep. Don’t you worry about us, pet, she’d be just one more notch in our belts.”

He realized what he’d said when it was met with utter silence. Swearing, he looked at her, statue-still. Buggered if he was going to apologize for that, it was true. She needed to understand. Angelus wouldn’t be asking.

“I know,” she said finally. “It’s not you I’m worried about. But do you think killing my sister is going to win me over? I would never forgive you.” And as if the cold finality in her voice needed emphasizing, she repeated: “Never.”

Spike opened his mouth half a dozen times, but there was really nothing to say to her, the stubborn bint. What he’d really like to do is reach in and yank her through that window by the hair…give it a few days and she’d change her tune. He was fairly vibrating with anger. The girl didn’t know what she was playing at.

He stubbed out his cigarette, stood without regard to Dawn and jumped off the roof in a flap of leather. Then he disappeared into the night.  
  
He killed everything that crossed his path.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Two days later, Buffy proved Dawn right, charging off to the house where she’d been kept, hell-bent on killing Angelus and Spike no matter _what_ Dawn said.

Dawn was scared to even ask when Buffy arrived home an hour later. Buffy offered up the information anyway: the house was empty, and she hadn’t been able to track them down. Willy the snitch said they’d skipped town.

She hadn’t expected that. Spike hadn’t exactly left her house willing to take her advice. Dawn wondered how he’d gotten Angelus to agree. She wondered where they had gone.

Why they had left so easily without her.

You know, stupid stuff like that.

Later that day, a body was found in one of the city parks. It was Janice. They were able to give her a proper funeral, and Dawn didn’t tell anyone what she knew about how her friend died.

It wasn’t like them to leave a body in public like that. She was sure it meant something. It was a personal message, from them to her.

She just wished she knew how to read it.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok folks, we're sliding towards home. a short 25, a relatively long 26, and an epilogue...whose length is anybody's guess, cuz it hasn't been written quite yet. :) I'm so freaking happy to almost be done with this. not that I don't like it, there's just no joy like that of a finished wip.

Three weeks passed without a sound or a sign of them. Dawn had half-expected them to be holed up somewhere, waiting. Waiting for her to let her guard down, waiting for Buffy to stop patrolling for them…waiting for Dawn to come back to them. Waiting for the opportunity to _make_ her come back.

But after three weeks, Dawn was starting to wonder if anyone was waiting for anything, except her.

They had left her.

She tried to imagine how that conversation could have possibly gone,

( _“The Bit says we have to bugger off, Angelus, I think we’d better go.”_

“Like hell. I’m a big, bad vampire with an ego as big as my cock, and I don’t take orders from humans.”

“All the same, the girl said to leave. We wouldn’t want to make her angry. After all, we’re big poofs and our sun rises and sets with—”)

and she couldn’t. Angelus would never have given up. Unless Spike had dragged him out of town bound and gagged….

She actually thought about that one a while. Spike would do it, she just wasn’t sure it would do any good. Because he had to unchain Angelus eventually….

Okay, that made her smile a little bit, actually. And at the same time, worry for Spike’s health and well-being.

…..Had she really made them that angry? Maybe it was never an argument at all. Maybe she’d pissed them off so much that they didn’t even want her anymore.

The night air was fresh and cool when she stepped outside. Little of the summer heat clung to the air once the sun went down, but her goosebumps weren’t just from the slight chill.

She stood in the front yard, still. Listening. Listening for something under the drone of the insects and the passing sounds of traffic. Not that she’d ever hear them if they didn’t want her to.

Her eyes searched every shadow.

She closed them. She closed them and waited. They could have her if they wanted.

“Dawn, what the hell are you doing out here?”

Buffy was backlit by the house, her face tight with worry. “It’s not safe,” she emphasized, like Dawn was a child. Or a retard.

“Yeah.”

She let herself be dragged back inside. They weren’t coming for her, anyway.


	27. Chapter 27

Buffy knew that her sister had been through a horrible ordeal. They’d all had a rough year, but none of them rougher than Dawn. Finding out that her life was a lie would have been bad enough, but she had been taken by those… _things_.

Buffy hurt for her. She could only imagine what she’d gone through, and the answers that her brain supplied were…. She cringed every time Dawn made an uncharacteristic crude joke, because it only confirmed her suspicions.

But most of the time, she was like a ghost. No bratty back-talking, no clothes-stealing, no tagging along, no _Dawn_. She just drifted through the house, silent and empty-eyed, and it made Buffy’s skin crawl, and she didn’t know how to fix it. Sometimes she found her out on the lawn, just…waiting. Tempting fate.

Already thin from the ordeal, Dawn did little more than pick at her food, and before long, she was skinny enough that Buffy felt the need to bring up words like ‘anorexia.’ And ‘coping mechanism.’

Dawn said nothing, but she started eating again. She started going out with friends, making jokes, acting normal, but Buffy got the feeling things were far from okay. It was a thinly-veiled act.

After fighting so hard to save Dawn from Glory, she felt utterly and completely helpless to save her from this.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Growing up, girls’ movie night in was a Summers institution. Buffy or Dawn picked the movies, their mom made popcorn, and they’d curl up under the blankets on the couch and settle in for the show.

Buffy had always been the one who loved the old black and white romances and bawled at bittersweet endings. Dawn usually made fun of them and picked a slapstick comedy when it was her turn. It was a tradition that fell by the wayside as the girls got older—especially when Dawn hit her teen years, and Buffy started college.

But things were different now. They’d spent weeks staying in, keeping close.

Both girls stayed up long after their mother had retired for the night. Dawn was often still in the living room when Buffy came back from a short patrol. She stayed up all night, slept half the day. Joyce fretted that it was unhealthy, but Buffy deflected the concern. It was summer, after all. Kids will be kids, and…yadda yadda.

And yeah, okay, they _did_ still fuss over Dawn more than normal, but that was just what she needed, right? She was still their little girl. And in the early hours of the morning, when Dawn was too sleepy to protest being touched, Buffy cradled her head in her lap, fingers combing through silky-soft hair. She could imagine that they were still young, when looking both ways before crossing the street was the biggest concern for their safety. Before she was called….

Dawn tolerated all their affection with a glazed sort of apathy. Sometimes, when Buffy looked into her eyes, she could believe that Dawn was ancient.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So when Dawn finally burst into sudden tears one night, Buffy felt a huge wash of relief, even as her heart squeezed in sympathy.

The hero and the heroine were reuniting to strains of sweeping violins, but she clicked off the television before gathering Dawn in.

Her body was still eerily frail, even though she’d put on weight. She shook so hard as she cried that Buffy felt as though she might come apart altogether.

Her fingers combed through Dawn’s hair, trying to soothe. Long after the worst had passed, Buffy still held her cradled against her chest, and Dawn, for once, didn’t try to pull away.

She snuffled, voice hoarse with tears. “How do you…. When someone does something so horrible, how is it possible to still love them.”

Buffy’s heart ached…worse when Dawn’s voice cracked with tears. She swallowed platitudes that hadn’t worked in the past. They made Dawn sarcastic and edgy.

“You just do.”

“Why?” The question was painfully small.

“You just….” She sighed, suddenly very tired. “You just do. You see past it, and you know that they’re still the same person that you loved before, and—” Frustrated, she dropped the pretense. “Dawnie, there’s nothing you could ever do that would make me love you less. Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Really.” A beat. “Except if you spilled nailpolish remover all over that leather skirt. Then I’d have to kill you.”

It was good to hear Dawn laugh. But when she pulled back, she still looked too serious.

“I love them.”

Buffy felt her hackles rise. Misdirection was the key to this particular discussion. Bait and switch—a handy alternative to rage. “You know, I thought you’ve always been _far_ too fond of acetone, but if you want my leather skirt, you’ll have to take it over my dead—”

“Buffy.”

“No. You don’t love them. You _can’t_ love them, there’s nothing to love. They’re _evil_. Vampires can’t love, Dawn. You know this.”

“They loved me.”

“They kidnapped you. They hurt you. For God’s sake, wake up, Dawn. When I found you, you were wearing a collar, and your wrists were raw because they kept you tied up. You’d been _crying_ , and that thing was holding you down….”

“That was…. It’s not how it looked. And it wasn’t like that the whole time. Well, the collar, but not the…. I know how it sounds but I swear, they were good to me—”

“They raped you.”

Dawn’s eyes ticked away, and for a long time, they were quiet. Dawn said nothing, and Buffy’s stomach churned.

“It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault. But you should admit—”

“I liked it.”

The words were so quiet, but unmistakable. “Don’t say that.”

“I did.”

“You…learned to tolerate it. And maybe even—”

“They didn’t rape me. I fucked them. They fucked me. We fucked. And I liked it. It wasn’t rape.”

Buffy stared. Dawn stared back, eerily unflinching. Old, old eyes. “Dawn, no.”

“I got really good at blowing them. Sometimes they hurt me, but I liked it. They liked to fuck me at the same time. One of them in my mouth, the other taking me from behind. One in my ass, the other in my cunt. I loved it. I used to beg them to—”

“Dawn. _Stop it._ ”

The silence was deafening, and Buffy’s grip on Dawn’s upper arm was too tight. She jerked away, and Buffy pulled her hand back as though burned. Dawn’s face was hard, determined, and then she blinked and her eyes were wetter. She looked away and swiped at her nose.

“ _Now_ do you love me?”

There was nothing that Buffy could say.

Dawn ran up the stairs. The door slammed behind her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Buffy didn’t knock. Dawn was curled up on her bed, and for a moment, Buffy saw it. The heartbreak.

She recognized the look. She’d seen it on her own face, when Riley left. Still felt hollow inside when she woke up alone.

The bed dipped when she sat on the edge, but Dawn didn’t look at her.

“You missed breakfast.”

Blue eyes were red-rimmed. Nobody could give the silent treatment like Dawn.

“Dawn, I’m sorry I didn’t…. Look, of course I still love you. I was just…you’re my little sister.”

She half-expected an eyeroll. A protest at being called little. And then Buffy would make a crack about the Jolly Green Giant, and….

That’s not how things were. When had Dawn grown up?

“Then admit that they loved me.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Dawn sighed and rolled onto her back. The silence was so thick that Buffy was about to get up and walk out.

“They liked to hear me laugh.”

God, Dawn. Did she really think that changed what they were? That it made it alright?

“Spike used to say, ‘It’s sweet to hear you giggle, kitten,’ and he’d tickle me, and Angelus would get this little smile, like…like he liked to see me happy. Even though he pretended it didn’t matter, because…you know, big bad reputation. But his eyes were softer when he looked at me, you know? Like…warm, somehow. I know it sounds stupid, because he’s a killer, but. Like, he was always really careful when he touched me, and it was like his eyes had to be careful, too.”

Buffy’s throat constricted on her protest. Someone had looked at her that way, once. And she’d blown it. But when she tried to reconcile it with the killers she’d met, she just couldn’t. She couldn’t fathom it.

Dawn sniffled, and wiped her eyes. “They always made sure the house was warm enough. Sometimes they’d even pick me up and carry me into the kitchen so the tile wouldn’t be cold on my feet.” She took a deep breath, the air shuddering back out of her lungs. Buffy reached out, but didn’t touch her. “I wanted them. Not at first, because…evil, but they never…. And ok, they could be all, me vampire, you girl, but sometimes it was kind of sweet, and I realize how deranged that sounds but. They took care of me.

“I think they killed Ben.”

Buffy debated speaking in the silence that followed. When she finally did, her voice was low. “I know. I know. But Dawn, they didn’t do it out of some…. They just wanted you to themsel—”

“They wanted to kill you.”

Buffy’s head snapped up. Dawn _knew_. She _knew_?

“That’s why they came to Sunnydale. They kill slayers, and you were next. I know you probably know this already. I’m just telling you, because the only reason…. I asked them not to. Begged them not to, for me. And they didn’t. I told them if they killed you, I could never—”

Her heart tore in two when Dawn began to cry again. “I miss them. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop. It hurts. It hurts every day. They’re angry with me because I turned my back on them to protect you, and I’m glad you’re safe but…. Do you hate me because I wish they’d taken me with them? I miss them. I _miss_ them. I—”

Buffy slipped into the bed and Dawn clung. Buffy let her cry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They didn’t speak much in the following days. There was nothing to say, really. Buffy wouldn’t know where to start. It flew in the face of everything she’d ever been taught.

They weren’t just vampires, they were _infamous_ vampires. Like Al Capone with fangs. Or maybe it would be more like Bundy or that other guy…or, oh! oh! Dahmer. What with the eating and the….  
  
Whatever. Dawn believed it, so she couldn’t just blow the whole thing off, much as she wanted to. It would have been easier if Dawn seemed crazy when she talked about them. Instead, she just seemed broken inside.

It was all too real.

Dawn’s birthday was a big to-do. Well, sort of big. As big as Dawn would let them do it. Friends and cake…balloons…goofy dancing. Stupid hats. Dawn seemed to enjoy herself, at least. She was laughing a little easier, smiling a little faster.

Buffy thought it just meant she was coming back to herself. She was wrong.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She awoke to noise in the house at 4am. Demon, burglar, stalker…sister.

Dawn was halfway out the door, backpack slung over her shoulder.

Buffy froze on the stairs, and they stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

“You can’t stop me from going.”

It held none of the bratty teenage defiance she’d expected from Dawn for so long. She looked older. Eighteen and four hours, but she looked older.

“No,” she said calmly, “But I can introduce your boyfriends to the wrong end of a stake.”

Even she didn’t believe it.

“I’d never forgive you.”

The gorge rose in Buffy’s throat. She wanted to say, ‘I don’t care if you forgive me, as long as you’re safe.’ She wanted to say, ‘You’re too young to be in love. You don’t know what that means.’ She wanted to say a lot of things. None of them felt very true.

“I love you. Tell mom….” Trick of the light, she looked young again. “Buffy, don’t follow me. I don’t want to have to choose.”

She was through the door when she paused, but she didn’t look back. “I’ll call.”

The door clicked shut softly. And she was gone.

-End-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue forthcoming, obviously.


	28. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for everyone's patience while I got around to the revisions. thanks to meretrix for the concrit on the epilogue when I couldn't put my finger on what was wrong with it. I think I'm pleased with the revisions.
> 
> and thanks to everyone for coming along on this shameless kink indulgence :) dirtybadwrong is always better when shared, don't you think? :)

The stench of fear and death hung heavy in the humid summer air, but the sweet scent of her cut through like a knife. Older, sadder. More nervous. But unmistakably _her_. It stood out above the cheap perfume of his victim and the stale beer soaking the pavement of Bourbon Street.

She hovered at the corner of the dark side street, just in the edge of a streetlamp, watching him with big eyes that flitted between his mouth and the limp body of the tourist in his arms.

He dropped the body and stepped around it, eyes still hard on Dawn. She jolted and stuttered backwards a step, hovering in plain view of anyone on the street.

“Come here.”

His voice was pitched low, barely audible beneath the cacophony of sound drifting from the bars, but he knew she heard him when she hesitated, reluctant to give up the illusion of safety. She tried so hard to look brave as she walked towards him. She almost pulled it off, but he could smell her.

She was afraid of him. As well she should be.

It was an emotion that spiked when he shoved her against the wall and yanked her head to the side. She smelled wonderful. Terrified and penitent and not just a little aroused. He lingered against her throat, touch soft despite the unnatural angle of her head.

If he’d had a choice, she would have been back with them months ago, before he’d been abducted from the Hellmouth by his own kin. He’d spent the ten hour drive to Las Cruces, New Mexico, plotting how to do just that. Also, he spent it fantasizing about flaying the flesh from Spike’s wretched bones.

Unfortunately, Spike hadn’t unchained him in New Mexico. Nor had he unchained him in Texas. By the time they got to the Big Easy, he’d spent three solid days listening to Spike yak yak yak about humans and grudges and sweeter victories.

On the fourth day, Spike hadn’t been in the talking mood. After that, Angelus made sure he wasn’t in the talking mood for a while.

But as much as Angelus hated to admit it, the boy had been right. This moment was that much sweeter for Dawn returning to them willingly.

His fangs slid through her like butter, and when he struck the arterial wall, the blood burst in his mouth like a ripe grape. She whimpered and jerked against him, heart pulsing hard against his chest and in his mouth. Already hot from feeding, the taste of her practically crackled under his skin.

She wasn’t wearing panties and when she wrapped her legs around his waist, all he had to do was fumble open his fly and slide home. He wanted to tear this girl to shreds for making him wait so long. To go back and slaughter everyone who’d kept her from him. Make her watch it happen, then turn her and torture her for days.

It wasn’t a course of action that would serve him in the long run.

Instead, he fucked her. Hooked her knees into the crook of his elbows and hoisted her higher, spread her open. Fucked her hard and fast and snarled satisfaction at the little sounds he pounded out of her. If he was too brutal, she didn’t complain.

After, he set her down on legs that wobbled, pallid from what he’d taken from her. Her eyes were a little glazed, but with pleasure he’d prefer to think, and his semen dripped down her thighs.

She _reeked_ of him.

For the first time in months, something nasty uncoiled from his belly, and he kissed her.

Far more gently than he’d ever own up to if questioned.

He was still kissing her when someone turned the corner off Bourbon, strolled into the shadows a few feet away and lingered.

He didn’t have to look when he broke away from Dawn. “Look what I found.”

“’Spect she found you.” Spike wandered closer, his inspection not as casual as it seemed. “Welcome home, kitten. Good to have you back.”

Dawn turned toward him, bleary-eyed, and Spike’s mouth dipped in a frown at the loopy smile she gave him.

“Bloody hell, Angelus, didn’t exactly leave any for me, did you? You fat, greedy bastard.”

For the first time in months, Angelus found himself grinning. “First come, first serve, Spikey. If you’d gotten here sooner….”

The clerk at the check-in didn’t even flinch when he carried Dawn through the lobby to the stairs. The sight of a man carrying a half-conscious girl to his suite wasn’t exactly novel around here.

Neither was the fact that he was trailed by a third party.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The girl was spoiled rotten. A good meal and a hot bath and she was tucked under the covers, feet never hitting the floor. But the color was back in her cheeks and her eyes were bright again, and if Spike didn’t get a go at the girl in the next few hours Angelus would never hear the end of it, so…it was perfectly acceptable to pamper her a little. For now.

She soaked up the attention with an air of relief, and as she recovered from his…enthusiastic greeting, he recognized that the pale, drawn quality was not entirely his fault. Dark circles haunted her eyes, and she was far too thin.

She napped for a time, sleep heavy with exhaustion…restless and unhappy until Spike slipped behind her to doze as the sun came up.

Angelus stayed where he was at the table, smoking and thinking. If they left for Europe soon, he could avoid an argument about her sister altogether. They could always make their way to Sunnydale to finish business in a few years. If the bitch lived that long. Might. She was good, he had to admit.

It was hours later when Dawn finally stirred awake, and Spike awoke minutes later. They stretched and curled together like kittens under the covers, and Dawn’s face lit with a grin as Spike’s hand slid under the covers.

Spike murmured something obscene and Dawn giggled and Angelus snorted, grinding out his cigarette before lighting another.

Their teasing conversation drifted in a way that required none of his attention. Until it did.

“So, big sis just let you walk out the door, eh? Really think she’s not going to come after you?”

Spike’s eyes met his, though his hand stroked the girl’s belly attentively. They were both thinking it…had been since she arrived. Dawn, clearly, had not. The question took the light out of her eyes, and she quieted. Eventually she shrugged.

“If I call and check in, she won’t worry.” Even if she’d said it with conviction, it seemed dubious at best. He and Spike exchanged a look. “She’ll leave us alone.”

They were all silent a moment, calculating the likelihood. Neither he nor Spike said what they were thinking, and Dawn looked uneasy. When Spike’s mouth brushed over the curve of her neck, worrying her wound, she tensed and sat up, scooting away and clutching the sheets close.

Her eyes fixed on the carpet by Angelus’ shoe. “I missed you. I probably shouldn’t, but I…. I’m here on one condition. Well, two….”

She trailed off and the window unit kicked on, noisily belching chilled air. Angelus took a slow drag and exhaled leisurely. “Fuck the conditions. You’re not leaving. Ever.”

Dawn gave the barest flinch at the hard line of his voice. “No more slayers. Not just my sister. No more.”

He stared for a hard minute. He disliked being given an ultimatum, but it would indebt the girl to him. Fill her with a healthy sense of gratitude. And it was doable, for now. It didn’t have to last forever. After they turned her, she wouldn’t care. She might even enjoy it. He toyed idly with how well-matched she’d be for a slayer, given her origins.

They could hold off on the sport until then.

“And?”

Dawn’s eyes shot up to his, uncertain at his acquiescence. A look back at Spike revealed nothing to her but his smug grin. Angelus’ boy knew him too well.

“And…and you have to promise not to turn me.”

Angelus lifted a brow, unimpressed. Surely the girl wasn’t _that_ naïve. “No.”

Her heart thudded at the simple denial. When Spike drew himself upright and tugged her into the V of his legs, she jolted. He murmured something soft in her ear that Angelus didn’t acknowledge, and he continued to prattle on with the fairy tale until Dawn calmed, melting back against him.

His lips brushed softly along her throat and shoulder, and Angelus tapped his ash onto the table. “There’s a girl,” Spike murmured in reward. “You’ll be spoiled rotten, you’ll see. Gonna take real good care of you. Forever.”

Dawn’s breath shuddered out, defeated with the kindness. When her eyes locked back on Angelus’, he was satisfied that they had won.

“At least give me five years.”

Angelus’ eyes rounded, and Spike snorted out a laugh, hiding his amusement against the girl’s shoulderblade. After a moment, his own lips curved up in amusement.

“Try _one_.”

“Four.”

Angelus snorted, extinguishing his cigarette. “One, princess.”

“Three?”

“ _One._ ”

“Okay, what about two?” The offer was greeted with stony silence. “…A year and a half?”

He shook his head, masking the involuntary tip of his lips.

Clearly impatient to end negotiations, Spike cupped her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. Her eyes drifted shut, head lax against his shoulder when his teeth scraped bluntly down the line of her throat.

She sighed. “…Yeah, okay, one. One’s fine.”

Angelus’ smirk was lost on the two of them as Spike wrestled her to the mattress.

Angelus licked his teeth and lit another, needing something to do with his hands as he watched them twist together, gasping and growling.

He hadn’t intended to turn her right away anyway.

A lot could change in a year. A lot _would_ change. But some things were going to stay exactly as they were.


End file.
